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Bob clipped the wires where they were exposed 




THE BOY VIGILANTES 
OF BELGIUM 


BY 

GEORGE ETHELBERT WALSH 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
EDWIN F. BAYHA. 



NEW YORK 
THE CENTURY CO. 
1919 


/ 



Copyright, 1918, 1919, by 
The Centubt Co. 

Published, September, 1919 


18 jyiy 

A S O 



©C1.A529860 


CONTENTS 


chapter page 

I Egmont’s Adventure 3 

II Bob Lane Has an Idea 18 

III Teaching the Huns a Trick . . . .33 

IV Under the Guild House 48 

V The Fight in the Cellar . . . . 62 

VI News from the Front 77 

VII Charlotte’s Danger 92 

VIII Charlotte and Jean Escape . . . .107 

IX Bob Arrested as a Spy 122 

X The Mystery OF the Chateau . . .137 

XI Prisoners 152 

XII The Mystery Explained 167 

XIII Military Information 182 

XIV Preparing to Cross the Border . . .197 

XV On the Way to Germany . . . .212 

XVI The Escape 227 

XVII Caught in a German Trap .... 240 

XVIII Broken Bonds 254 

XIX The Unexpected Happens .... 269 

XX Passing the Enemy’s Lines . . . .283 

XXI The Order of Leopold 296 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Bob clipped the wires where they were ex- 
posed Frontispiece 

FACING 

PAGE 

“A spy!” he hissed. ‘‘A young American spy!” . . 130 


Egmont closed the door as softly as he had opened it 266 

The king pinned a similar decoration on Egmont’s 

coat 300 


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THE BOY VIGILANTES 
OF BELGIUM 

CHAPTER I 

egmont’s adventure 

O N the wooded hillside just outside the city of 
Brussels, two boys, ragged of clothes and 
swarthy of complexion, but rather too thin for 
rugged health, were resting in the shade of a tree, 
with apparently no other purpose in view than to 
enjoy the fresh air and sunshine while they gave 
their limbs and bodies a much needed vacation. 
Below, at the foot of the hill, paced a German 
sentry, and beyond gleamed a row of barracks, 
over which the black double-eagle of Germany 
fluttered idly in the breeze. 

‘‘Listen, Henri,’’ the elder of the two boys was 
saying in a low, but eager voice; “good news I 
bring to-day. The Americans are coming — com- 
3 


4 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


ing like the locusts in the harvest season. Thou- 
sands and thousands of them! Soon there will 
be a great army, and the Boches will be rolled 
back to the Rhine. They don’t want to believe it. 
Their commanders tell them it is a lie. They 
invent all sorts of tales, but it is true. Carl 
knows, and he wishes the good news passed on. 
Spread it through Ghent. Tell every one, and 
flaunt it in the faces of the Boches. It will make 
them angry — but it will make them afraid.” 

Egmont stopped for breath, and Henri, who 
had been listening eagerly, spoke. In spite of the 
enthusiasm awakened in him by his friend, there 
was a note of depression and discouragement in 
his voice. 

‘‘America is a long way off, Egmont. Do you 
think they can get here in time?” 

“Have n’t I just told you they ’re coming — that 
they are here, thousands of them?” exclaimed Eg- 
mont, with a slight trace of irritation. 

“Yes, but it will take so many of them 1 When 
the English came, we thought Belgium would be 
saved. They came by the thousands and thou- 
sands, and our hope was great, but they had to 


EGMONT’S ADVENTURE 


5 


fall back. Nothing could stop the Huns. I 
fear— 

Egmont caught the speaker by the arm and 
shook him roughly. ^‘Stop!” he commanded 
vigorously. “Don’t say that! Remember your 
oath. shall fear nothing, hut brave everything, 
until my beloved country is freed of the tyrants J 
If you doubt and fear now, Henri, what can you 
expect the others to do? How can we keep up 
their courage while our soldiers are fighting in the 
trenches, and giving up their lives for us ? I’m 
ashamed of you, Henri! What would our dear 
king and queen think if they heard you ! Are n’t 
they giving up everything, working unafraid, 
night and day, for Belgium? Then why should 
you — ” 

“Don’t speak so harshly, Egmont,” interrupted 
Henri. “I have traveled far to-day and the sun 
is hot. I felt discouraged, but I am not really 
afraid.” 

“What did you have for breakfast, Henri?” 
asked his companion, looking at him with sudden 
compassion. 

“Nothing but a piece of bread — American 


6 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


bread. It did not last long. I was hungry when 
it was gone. On my way here I caught a fish, 
and made a fire to cook it. The odor of it made 
me ravenous. Then — then — ” his eyes filled with 
tears of rage, — ^fihey took it away from me, and 
ate it while I looked on.’^ 

‘^The Boches?^^ 

“Yes, a fat pig of an officer! He saw my 
smoke, and came just in time to take the fish al- 
most out my mouth. Oh, Egmont, I could have 
killed him!’’ 

Egmont nodded, and drew something from his 
blouse. “This will make you forget it,” he said 
quietly, handing Henri a piece of bread with a 
tiny chunk of meat on it. “I saved it for you. 
I thought you would be hungry.” 

Henri’s eyes opened in greedy surprise, but al- 
most instantly he checked the expression, and 
nodded his head stubbornly. “No, it ’s part of 
your breakfast. I shall not take it.” 

Egmont smiled. “I have eaten all I need,” he 
replied. “I had a wonderful breakfast. This is 
not a part of it. I don’t need it. If you won’t 


EGMONT’S ADVENTURE 


7 


take it, I ’ll throw it away. Even the birds are 
hungry, and they will eat it up quickly. Shall 
I show you?” 

Henri snatched the bread and meat from his 
hands. ‘‘No, no! ” he said sharply. “The birds 
are better off than we are. I shall eat it.” 

Egmont w^atched silently the quick disappear- 
ance of the food he had saved from his own 
meagre fare. A gnawing at his stomach made 
him wince, and unconsciously, when one of the 
crumbs fell on the ground, he picked it up and put 
it in his mouth. Fortunately Henri did not notice 
it. When the last mouthful had been swallowed, 
he sighed with satisfaction. 

“It was hunger, Egmont, nothing else,” he said, 
smiling. “I shall feel better now. I shall go 
back and tell the good news. Ah, we shall beat 
the tiuns yet! We shall never give in! Vive 
la Belgique!” 

“Sh-h!” cautioned Egmont. “You will be 
heard. That sentry down there is keeping an eye 
on us. We must part soon.” 

Henri lapsed into silence, throwing himself on 


8 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


his back, his hands supporting his head, and a 
bare foot elevated skyward as one leg crossed the 
other. 

^d like to shout it in their ears until it made 
them tremble,’’ he growled. ‘‘Some day they 
will hear it in Germany.” 

“So they shall. When the Americans come by 
the millions, we shall cross the Rhine, and then — ” 

He stopped, a wistful, far-away expression in 
his eyes — a look which contained all the hopes 
and dreams of a nation held in thrall by a ruthless 
enemy. 

“How many people live in America, Egmont?” 
Henri asked, after a pause. “It is a great coun- 
try, but can they send millions of soldiers? Is 
it as big as England?” 

Egmont smiled condescendingly at the naive 
question. Then a flush of shame tinged his 
cheeks as he recalled his own ignorance of the 
great free country across the seas until he had been 
enlightened by his cousin Bob, who was an Amer- 
ican by birth. Had he not believed that America 
was a half-settled country, whose people were In- 
dians and the other half black men? 


EGMONT’S ADVENTURE 


9 


‘Tt is as big as all Europe, Henri, he replied 
solemnly; ^‘and its people are more numerous 
than — than the English and French put together. 
And it has all the food it needs — enough to feed 
all of us. It ’s the greatest country in the world. 
Bob says. I wish some day I could see it.” 

‘^But have they enough ships? I heard Jean 
Beeckmann say it would take a thousand to bring 
a big army across, and England has lost most of 
her great ships.” 

“German talk, Henri ! ” was the scoffing reply. 
“That ’s what they want us to believe. But, 
listen ! Bob says America ’s building ships so 
fast that the ocean will soon be alive with them. 
They ’re launching them every day, — ^big ships 
and little ships, — sometimes two and three a day ; 
and soon they ’ll slide them into the water in whole 
fleets. They ’re building airships, too, so many 
they ’ll darken the skies. I ’ve been watching for 
them every day. Who knows but that is one 
now?” 

He pointed skyward where a dim speck was 
rapidly growing larger, as the big-winged bird 
flew straight toward them. With eyes bent on the 


10 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


aeroplane, the boys waited in breathless silence 
until, in the dazzling sunlight, a big black cross, 
painted on the underside of it, dashed their hopes. 

‘Tt’s a German Gotha sighed Henri. 
‘‘They ^re everywhere — nothing but Gothas and 
Taubes and Albatrosses. I hate the sight of 
them!’’ 

“Well,” resumed Egmont hopefully, “they will 
soon meet the American aeroplanes, and then 
they ’ll pay for all their terrible work.” 

A crackling of paper under his blouse suddenly 
recalled something that he had forgotten. 
Stealthily drawing forth the newspaper that had 
been lying, closely folded, against his breast, he 
added : 

“Take this, Henri! It’s the last copy of 
‘L’Echo Beige.’ It ’s published in London, and 
is full of news. Take it and pass it around. 
But be careful no Boches see it. They ’d tear it 
up and arrest you.” 

“May I read it?” was the eager query. 

“Not here. That German sentry may see you. 
Quick, hide it, he ’s looking ! ” 

Henri concealed the paper from sight, and then 


EGMONT’S ADVENTURE 


11 


began working it under his shirt so that not even 
a corner of it was visible. “Jean will want to 
read it/’ he mumbled. “Jean ’s sad and discour- 
aged. He ’s heard nothing from Marie yet. It 
makes him nearly frantic to think of what may 
have happened to her.” 

“Tell Jean he must be of good heart. Marie 
will come back to him. But,” yawning and ris- 
ing, “I must be going. If we stay here longer, 
that sentry will get suspicious. Here ’s your fish- 
ing-rod. You may catch another fish on the way 
back. If you do, keep it until you get home. 
Adieu now ! I cannot wait longer.” 

Picking up his battered cap, Egmont left his 
companion and strolled idly down the hillside in 
the direction of the sentry. He had learned from 
long experience that it was safer to face the Ger- 
mans boldly than to slink away as if afraid of 
them. 

Henri watched him a moment, and then, with a 
sigh, picked up his fishing-rod and made off in 
the direction of Ghent, choosing a shaded road 
where the soft dirt would not hurt his bare feet as 
the hard macadam highway did. 


12 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

The German sentry at the foot of the hill waited 
for Egmont to approach. He was not particu- 
larly ugly or suspicious by nature, but his life had 
been made hard and difficult by the half-grown 
youngsters of the district, who taunted him behind 
his back and made strange faces at him. There 
were boys back in Germany whom he often 
thought of, for they were his own, — ^little Fritz 
and Carl, — and for their sakes he had often been 
easy with these children of a conquered race : but 
sometimes he thought his leniency was misunder- 
stood. They were not only mischievous, but 
openly rebellious. 

He planted himself squarely in front of Eg- 
mont, and glared hard at him. Egmont endured 
the challenge with calm eyes that never wavered 
an instant. The sentry grunted, and then asked : 

‘^How old are you?’^ 

^‘Fourteen next birthday.’^ 

The man grunted again, and muttered surlily 
in German, ‘‘You lie, like all your people! 
You ’re fourteen! I have said it! Hear me! ” 

Egmont flushed and then paled. He was used 
to the insulting language of the invaders, but the 


EGMONT’S ADVENTURE IS 

sentry’s words carried a threat with it. Many 
boys of fourteen and over had been carried awa’y 
to work in Germany as prisoners. If he was sus- 
pected of being fourteen, what might not be his 
fate? 

^‘No, thirteen,” he replied, shaking his head. 
“I can prove it by the — ” 

‘T said you were fourteen! Hear me! ” 

Egmont trembled before the bully in uniform, 
but there was nothing gained by irritating him. 
He kept silent, waiting for the other to proceed. 

‘‘You have good muscles,” the sentry added, 
squeezing one of Egmont’s biceps with a hand 
that hurt. “You could work in a factory — or a 
coal-mine.” 

He grinned and shook his head. “A boy of 
your age should work. I will see the command- 
ant. He will make you tell the truth.” 

For a moment Egmont was struck cold with 
fear. If it suited the commandant to send him 
away to Germany, nothing he could say would be 
of any avail. And the work which he had to do 
for his country would be taken from him. He 
would never see Carl again, nor Henri, nor Leo- 


14j the boy vigilantes of BELGIUM 

pold, nor any of his companions. It was not the 
German way to give captives an opportunity to 
say good-by to their friends and family. 

The sentry was a new man to Egmont, and, as 
he was stationed on duty outside of the city, the 
boy was speculating upon his chances of not being 
recognized again if he made a break for liberty 
and escaped. 

^‘You come with me,’’ added the man, after a 
pause. “I will make you say fourteen. Under- 
stand ? You ’re fourteen ! Say it now ! ” 

^‘Fourteen,” Egmont repeated unwillingly. 

^‘Ah ha! I said it! And now you said it! 
That makes you fourteen — and a liar! Hear 
that?” 

Egmont said nothing, but in his mind he was 
saying that, if the chance ever came, he would re- 
pay the sentry for his words. Having properly 
subjugated his victim and forced him to deny his 
own words, the man seemed immensely pleased. 
He leered at him, and pinched one of his cheeks. 

''Ach! It ’s not so hard as I thought. You 
need good German food to make you stronger. 
See, the flesh is soft. You ’re fourteen, but you ’re 


EGMONT’S ADVENTURE 


15 


not strong enough yet to work for Germany. 
Maybe I ’ll let you go this time, but next time — 
look out!” 

Egmont drew a deep sigh of relief. He would 
not be haled before the commandant to undergo 
an examination as to his age and fitness. In his 
relief he smiled up at the sentry, who, mistaking 
it for boyish impudence, suddenly raised a hand 
and smote him in the face. 

Egmont went down before the unexpected blow, 
and lay on the grass a moment in stunned silence. 
When his senses came back to him, a slow, sullen 
rage at this unprovoked attack made him for a 
moment oblivious of everything else. All caution 
and prudence vanished from his mind. 

“You German pig!” he growled in his own 
language. 

“What ’s that ! Speak it again ! ” 

Unable to grasp the meaning of the words, the 
sentry leaned threateningly over him, a hand 
raised as if to repeat the blow. But Egmont’s 
consuming wrath had not blinded him to his dan- 
ger, and the possible chance of escape from his 
tormentor was uppermost in his mind. The Ger- 


16 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


man was firmly planted on two feet, with his legs 
far apart, but in bending forward he was in dan- 
ger of losing his balance through any slight mis- 
hap. Egmont saw his opportunity, and with the 
swiftness and sureness of youth he took advantage 
of it. 

He shot through the soldier’s legs with one 
spring, and, at the proper moment, caught an 
ankle in either hand and tripped the burly figure 
as easily as an acrobat would leap through a paper 
hoop and never touch the rim. The man went 
down with a thud, plowing up the dirt with both 
hands and the tip of his nose. 

When he regained his feet, the boy was a con- 
siderable distance away, making for a grove of 
trees to the left of the barracks. The discomfited 
sentry was aching for revenge, and his rifle, lying 
where he had dropped it, offered him the oppor- 
tunity. He seized it with an oath and raised it to 
his shoulder. 

But he did not fire at the fleeing boy. A 
crafty expression came into his face. He glanced 
in the direction of the barracks to see if any of his 
comrades had witnessed his downfall. If not. 


EGMONT’S ADVENTURE 


17 


then why make a fuss ? There would be awkward 
explanations to make, and perhaps in the end he 
would be laughed at for being toppled over in the 
dirt by a boy. 

He lowered his rifle just as Egmont reached 
the edge of the grove and plunged into its wel- 
come shade. *'Ach! I ’ll teach him manners 
next time!” he growled. “Little camel-pig! I 
made him say it! Fourteen he is! He said it! 
Called himself a liar!” 

Smiling with satisfaction at the remembrance of 
this petty triumph, he dusted off his uniform, in- 
flated his chest, and resumed his pacing, with the 
air of one who had defeated a formidable enemy. 


CHAPTER II 


BOB LANE HAS AN IDEA 

E GMONT D’ANETHAN was not fourteen, 
but so dangerously close to it that it made 
him shudder whenever he thought of the deporta- 
tion of the Belgian boys and girls to Germany for 
work in the mines and factories ; for fourteen was 
the age fixed by the decrees of Berlin, and in a few 
months that momentous birthday would come for 
him. His adventure with the German sentry 
forced home another unpleasant truth — he was 
large for his age, he looked fourteen; and this de- 
cided the invaders in their selection far more than 
the actual number of one’s years. They wanted 
no weak, sickly, undersized youths, even if they 
were above fourteen. 

The realization of all this was a distinct shock 
to him, and on his way back to the city he avoided 
the German uniform wherever he saw it, although 

this was somewhat difficult, for, since the early 
18 


BOB LANE HAS AN IDEA 


19 


occupation of Brussels by the enemy nearly four 
years before, sentries were stationed at every cor- 
ner, and stray officers and soldiers had the dis- 
agreeable habit of popping out of doorways in 
the most unexpected way. 

Belgium had been conquered physically, but the 
brave spirits of the people had not been broken. 
They were still at war with Germany. But it was 
a war of wits rather than of arms. In spite of 
the enemy’s vaunted intelligence department and 
hordes of spies, a system of underground commu- 
nication between the cities and the Belgian army 
near the coast was kept up, and it was impossible 
to suppress outside news and prevent it from 
reaching the beleaguered nation. 

The irritation of the German intelligence offi- 
cers at being outwitted by their little foe was nat- 
ural enough, and in their frenzy, at times, they 
seized innocent people and shot them as spies. 
One could hardly take a walk or visit a friend 
without being shadowed by some more or less stu- 
pid officer in uniform or in civilian clothes. 

Reaching the Boulevard du Midi by a circuit- 
ous route, Egmont found himself among the 


so THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


throngs of people out for the afternoon airing. 
He drew a sigh of relief, for there was safety in 
numbers. Hurrying along for a few blocks, he 
turned into a side street, and then suddenly darted 
through the arched portico of an imposing house 
and disappeared from view. 

The Palais d’Anethan was the home of Count 
d’Anethan, a man long past seventy, whose age 
and infirmities had kept him from defending his 
country with arms, but had not prevented him 
from serving her with his intellect. The d’Ane- 
thans were of ancient lineage, and one of the most 
respected families in Belgium. Egmont d’Ane- 
than would succeed his grandfather, in time, and 
become Count d’Anethan: but as he entered the 
stately home of his titled ancestor, he looked any- 
thing hut a count in dress and appearance. 

His clothes, patched and dirty, were those of a 
common street urchin; his feet were bare and 
grimy now with the mud of the country ; his hair 
was tousled and gritty with dust; his hands and 
face were smudged and stained. But his eyes 
shone brightly with the unquenchable spirit of his 
proud race. 


BOB LANE HAS AN IDEA SI 

Passing through the arch to the courtyard, he 
reached the grand staircase, and ascended to a pri- 
vate room above, where his coming was welcomed 
by another boy of about his own age. Bob Lane 
was an American first and a Belgian afterward. 
His mother. Count d’Anethan’s daughter, had 
married Herbert Lane, a former attache of . the 
American Legation in Brussels; a post which he 
relinquished in a few years to return to America, 
where Bob had been brought up in the true demo- 
cratic way. 

During that fateful summer when Germany de- 
scended upon her little neighbor and with fire and 
sword attempted to obliterate her. Bob, who had 
lost his father the year before, was visiting his 
grandfather in Brussels, and the close attachment 
that had sprung up between him and his cousin 
Egmont seemed to be only strengthened by the 
stirring events that shocked the whole civilized 
world. 

His mother, broken in health by the death of 
her husband and the tragic suffering of her own 
country, could not cross the ocean to join her son, 
but advised him, if he wished, to remain with his 


22 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


grandfather, rendering such help as a neutral 
could to his relatives and friends. Through the 
months and months when the starvation of Bel- 
gium hung in the balance, which America’s re- 
lief-ships finally saved. Bob stood loyally by the 
stricken people with whom he claimed kinship. 

When America entered the war, Count d’Ane- 
than had come to him and advised him to leave 
the country with the rest of the Americans: but 
the weary eyes of his grandfather were filled with 
tears when he spoke. ^^Youi: mother needs you. 
Bob,” he said: ‘‘You can do nothing more here 
now. We must bear our grief the best we can.” 

Looking the old man in the face, with eyes that 
reflected the spirit of a long line of d’Anethans, 
Bob had replied : “No, Grandfather, I ’m not go- 
ing to leave you. I ’ll stay here until the Ameri- 
can soldiers sweep the Huns out of Belgium.” 

Count d’Anethan shook his head as he smiled 
wistfully and affectionately at this grandson who 
had come to him from across the ocean to cheer 
his declining years. “It will be a long time,” he 
faltered. “America is not prepared.” 

“That ’s so,” admitted Bob, ruefully. Then 


BOB LANE HAS AN IDEA 




smiling, with a gleam of pride in his eyes : ‘‘But 
you don’t know America. She ’ll prepare, and 
come across with enough soldiers to whip the 
Boches, She ’ll never quit until it ’s done! ” 

“How will she get here without ships?” mildly 
asked the aged count, smiling at the cock-sureness 
of this young American grandson. 

“Build them! ” was the prompt retort. 

In spite o£ his skepticism. Count d’Anethan ex- 
perienced a little glow of hope and enthusiasm, 
for Bob had a way of making others share his 
own optimistic prophecies. 

“She ’s done wonderful things in feeding our 
people,” murmured the Count. “Wonderful! 
Without America we should have starved. Bel- 
gium will never forget.” 

“Then she ’ll help you lick the enemy. She ’ll 
drive them across the Rhine. Wait and see! I 
want to be here when the American soldiers come. 
I ’ll shout myself hoarse when I see the Stars and 
Stripes passing through Brussels on the way to 
Berlin.” 

Egmont had clapped his cousin on the shoulder 
in an excess of enthusiasm. “I know they ’ll 


24 * THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


come, Bob, these Americans ! he exclaimed. “It 
will be a gala day for Brussels then. Grand- 
father, you must believe it and pray for it. 
You 11 live to see our country’s wrongs avenged.” 

“I hope so, Egmont, I hope so! Yes,” he 
added, stiffening his bent figure to the soldier’s at- 
titude, “the day must come when Belgium shall 
rise triumphant from her ashes 1 . And God grant 
it may be the Americans who will help us 1” 

'^Vive la Belgique! Vive V America I shouted 
Egmont, tossing his cap in the air. 

“Hurrah for the good old United States!” 
laughed Bob, joining in the enthusiasm. 

But the days and weeks and months had passed, 
and still the Americans had n’t come. Germany 
had become more brutal, if possible, toward her 
small neighbor, deporting the young and vigorous 
to work in her mines and factories. The world 
had looked on in horror and uttered protest after 
protest, but nothing except a mightier power than 
his own could swerve the Hun from his diabolical 
way. 

Meanwhile Bob had not rested idly, waiting for 
the coming of the armies that were to make the 


BOB LANE HAS AN IDEA 


25 


world safe for democracy. There was plenty of 
work to do. Belgium — Brussels, in particular 
— was isolated from the rest of the world. She 
was fed on German stories of success and deleted 
accounts of what was happening in America. 
Like a wet blanket smothering a fire, the constant 
suppression of cheering news and the steady pub- 
lication of exaggerated victories of the German 
armies were beginning to have an effect. The na- 
tion that had faced death and disaster by sword 
and fire was in danger of losing its spirit through 
inaction and lonely isolation. The morale of the 
aged and broken-spirited citizens began to waver. 

All the young men had been killed or were in 
the army with King Albert, and most of the young 
women had been deported to Germany. Only the 
very young and old remained to keep the home 
fires burning, and the old were showing signs of 
breaking under their grief and losses. 

The hope of Belgium, therefore, rested upon 
the young. They were as defiant and invincible 
as their fathers. Nothing could break their rest- 
ive spirits, not even half rations or semi-starva- 
tion. They hated the enemy that had enslaved 


m THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


their country, scoffed at the fat soldiers on the 
squares, and secretly spat at their uniforms. 
Secretly, if not openly, defiant, they kept the spirit 
of Belgium smouldering. 

In America, Bob had been a typical boy, and 
the team spirit was strong within him. Baseball, 
football, and all the other outdoor sports, had 
taught him the advantage of cooperation in play 
and work. 

Working alone and independently, the boys of 
Brussels were a great help in cheering the old men 
and women: but their patriotism needed direction 
and organization to make it effective. Something 
had to be done to counteract the demoralizing in- 
fluence of the German false reports, the people 
had to be kept in touch with their army, cooperat- 
ing with the Allies on the western front. 

‘‘Egmont,’^ Bob said one day to his cousin, 
‘‘I ’m going to organize the ‘Boy Vigilantes of 
Brussels.^ ’’ 

“What ’s that?’’ asked Egmont, a little puzzled 
by the abrupt announcement. “Vigilantes? I 
don’t know what they are.” 


BOB LANE HAS AN IDEA 2T 

^^No, but in America we have them. They ’re 
writers, who give their services to counteract the 
German propaganda. They spread true stories 
of what ’s happening every day in my country ; 
and when they hear of a German lie, they nail it 
on the spot.” 

‘T did n’t know you had boy writers doing that 
in America,” said Egmont, in surprise. 

Bob laughed good-naturedly. ‘T did n’t quite 
mean that,” he explained. ‘^These writers are 
not boys. They ’re men and women. The first 
Vigilantes were men, and they restored order in 
California and the West at a time when nobody’s 
life was safe from the desperadoes who had 
flocked there.” 

In a graphic way he sketched the early history 
of the Vigilantes, and their adventurous career in 
the days when life in the turbulent Far West was 
almost as uncertain as in Belgium under the iron 
heel of Germany. 

‘^The men here can’t organize such a secret soci- 
ety,” Bob added, ‘Tor all except the old are dead 
or in prison or fighting with King Albert, But 


^8 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


why can’t the boys of Belgium become Vigi- 
lantes?” 

Egmont’s eyes opened wide in astonishment, 
for he had not yet entirely grasped the full mean- 
ing of the other’s words. ^‘Could we do it?” he 
stammered. ‘‘We could n’t fight the Huns. 
They ’re too many for us, and they ’re men, and 
we ’re only boys.” 

“I did n’t mean to fight them with arms, Eg- 
mont,” was the smiling reply. “No, we could n’t 
do that. But we could band together, and do lots 
of things to help. There are the English papers 
and ‘L’Echo Beige.’ They tell the truth about 
what ’s happening. Could n’t we smuggle them 
around and let the Reynteins and the de Lignes 
and the d’Oultremonts read them? It would cer- 
tainly cheer dear old Madame de Chokier and 
Marie Van de Weyer if they could read about 
their sons and grandsons with King Albert, 
would n’t it?” 

“Yes — yes! Of course! And Leo Beeck- 
mann would help us; so would Guy d’Assches. 
They ’d all help.” 


BOB LANE HAS AN IDEA 


29 


“Then we should organize at once. Invite Guy 
and Leopold and Phil and all the other boys you 
can trust. We must be sure of whom we take in. 
We can’t have any traitors.” 

From this small beginning, the Boy Vigilantes 
of Belgium had spread to include most of the 
country held by the Germans. Bob and Egmont 
had been less ambitious in their plans than cir- 
cumstances determined, for they called their or- 
ganization “The Boy Vigilantes of Brussels” at 
first: but later, by their underground system 
of communication, it spread until there were 
branches organized in Ghent, in Antwerp, in war- 
torn Malines, as far east as Liege, and in the west 
to the very gates of Bruges. 

It was a boy propaganda, and therefore most 
difficult for the Germans to ferret out and crush. 
There were no printed documents, no letters to fall 
into the hands of the invaders to incriminate the 
members ; nothing definite that could point to Bob 
or Egmont, to Phil or Leo, as the ringleaders. 
Henri Rogier, of Ghent, made occasional fishing- 
trips or took long tramps in the country: but 


30 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


ragged, barefooted, and disreputable in appear- 
ance, he looked to be the most harmless vagrant in 
the world. 

Yet Henri, and Albert de Decker of Antwerp, 
and Alva Chasse of Malines, as well as dozens of 
other Belgian boys of the different towns and vil- 
lages, met and exchanged messages by word of 
mouth. Sometimes it was only a message of 
cheer, and at other times it was important military 
information that would be of value to the Allies, 
for the organization had increased until Belgium 
was covered by a spy system that defied the intelli- 
gence department of the German army. 

Bob and Egmont had worked assiduously to 
make the Vigilantes a power to help their stricken 
country. It gave them an outlet for their restless 
spirits, and the very secrecy of their work ap- 
pealed to their imagination. The old Count 
d’Anethan never dreamed of the plots hatched 
under his roof. Perhaps if he had fear for the 
boys would have compelled him to stop it; and 
certainly, if it were discovered, the German rulers 
would have unhesitatingly imprisoned or shot 
him for harboring spies. 


BOB LANE HAS AN IDEA 


31 


It was the fear of directing suspicion to their 
grandfather’s house that had induced the boys to 
locate their meeting-place in an abandoned sewer 
under the lower part of the city. This could be 
reached by two small canals, whose waters, fed by 
the Senne River, rarely rose high enough to close 
any of the entrances. Like rats with many holes 
through which they could scurry if surprised, the 
young Vigilantes felt safe and secure in their arti- 
ficial tunnel. 

Each member, before he was given a part to 
perform, had to take the oath of secrecy, which 
had been prepared by Bob and Egmont : 

“I shall fear nothing, but brave ever3^hing, until my 
beloved country is freed of the tyrants. I pledge my life, 
and all I have and am, to do everything to help my coun- 
try and king. If I am captured, I swear that I will not 
divulge any of the secrets of the Vigilantes, nor will I 
betray any of my comrades nor get them in trouble. I 
pledge myself to carry out the orders given me and keep 
them secret from the enemy until the day comes when 
Germany is driven out of the country and Belgium is once 
more free.” 

In Brussels there were twoscore members: in 
Antwerp nearly as many; a dozen in Ghent; and 


S2 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


ten in Malines. But in each of these places were 
numerous ‘‘tenderfeet/^ who shared some of the 
responsibilities of the regular members and as- 
pired some day to be admitted as full-fledged 
Vigilantes. They worked indefatigably to 
gather news of value, listening, observing, search- 
ing for information to spread by word of mouth 
from one end of Belgium to the other. 

The Boy Vigilantes of Belgium had already 
accomplished much for their country, and their 
work still went on, for they continned to spread 
among their countrymen the real facts of the war 
and to put new cheer into the hearts of the aged 
and infirm whose burden had become almost un- 
bearable. 


CHAPTER III 


TEACHING THE HUNS A TRICK 

W HEN Egmont met his cousin in the upper 
room of the Palais d’Anethan, after his 
adventure with the German sentry, he was shaken 
and excited, and stood a moment in breathless 
silence. 

“Did you see Henri Bob asked eagerly. 
“Yes,^’ was the reply, accompanied by a nod 
of the head. “I told him the news, and he will 
carry it to Ghent.’’ 

“That ought to cheer them up, then,” Bob said, 
smiling grimly. “I don’t know of anything bet- 
ter that has come to us for a long time. But,” 
observing Egmont shrewdly, “you look tired and 
pale. Anything happen to you on the way?” 
“No-~yes.” 

Bob waited for him to explain his contradic- 
tory answer, watching him anxiously, for it was 
apparent that Egmont was shaken and troubled 
by something out of the ordinary. 

33 


34 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM , 


‘^Bob, do I look as if I might be fourteen?’’ his 
cousin asked suddenly. 

^‘Why, yes, you might almost pass for fifteen, 
cousin. You always were big for your age. So 
am I. Why?” 

Egmont gulped before replying. ‘T was 
stopped by a sentry, and he threatened to have 
me sent to Germany to work in the mines. He 
said I was fourteen, and forced me to repeat his 
lie. I was helpless, of course.” 

Bob’s face grew serious. ^‘And then what?” 

Egmont smiled at the memory of what had 
followed. ‘‘After I had been so obliging to the 
fat pig, he knocked me down. Then — then — I 
got away. I tripped him, and ran for the 
woods.” 

“It’s a wonder he didn’t shoot you!” Bob 
exclaimed. “They shoot for less than that.” 

“I think he intended to. Once I turned my 
head, and he was aiming his rifle at me. But he 
did n’t shoot. Anyway, I don’t believe he could 
have hit me, I was running and dodging so fast; 
very few of these sentries can shoot straight. If 
they could, they ’d be at the front.” 


TEACHING THE HUNS A TRICK 65 


“Yes/^ nodded Bob, ‘^they are only fat, bald- 
headed Landwehr in Brussels. That ’s why we 
have so little trouble with them. They ’re stupid 
clerks and business men turned into soldiers.” 

Egmont agreed with him, for, since the battle- 
line had moved farther west, Germany’s real 
fighters had disappeared, leaving Brussels in 
charge of the older men. They had no fear 
of an uprising in their rear, for had not all 
of Belgium’s young men been driven back of 
Ypres? 

^Tf that is true, Egmont, you ’ll have to be 
more careful,” Bob added after a pause. ‘Tf 
they think you look old enough to work, they ’ll 
take you away to Germany. That would be 
worse than — than almost anything. Prisoners 
who work in the mines either die or come back 
living wrecks.” 

^‘Aren’t you in danger, too. Bob?” asked Eg- 
mont. ‘‘You look older than I do, and you ’re 
taller?” 

“Yes, I ’ve been expecting it for some time. 
But they ’ll never take me to Germany! Not on 
your life! I ’ll see to that.” 


36 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


“How can you help it if they seize you?’' asked 
Egmont, knitting his eyebrows in surprise. 

Bob shrugged his shoulders expressively. 
“Oh, I ’ll find a way — break away, or wreck their 
train. I ’ll never cross the line into Germany as 
a prisoner.” 

This boastful statement impressed his cousin, 
for Egmont had great admiration for the bravery 
and resourcefulness of Bob Lane. More than 
once he had extricated himself and others from 
difficult positions. It was the American way. 
Egmont sighed. 

“I hope they ’ll never try to take us,” he added. 

“No, Egmont, I hope not, but I suppose we 
ought to be prepared for it and make our plans. 
If we ’re taken, or have to leave Belgium, some- 
body else must take our places. The work can’t 
stop.” 

“I don’t like to think of it,” muttered Egmont, 
scowling. “We ’re needed here.” 

“Sure! but for the sake of the cause we must 
be prepared. It ’s been bothering me a good deal 
lately. Every day some German officer or sentry 
stares at me as if he was sizing me up. I ’m get- 


TEACHING THE HUNS A TRICK 37 


ting too big to be allowed to stay. The time will 
come soon when they ’ll try to deport me.” 

‘T had n’t thought of it before to-day,” replied 
Egmont, walking the floor nervously. don’t 
know what I ’ll do if they seize me. I — I — 
think — I ’d rather die.” 

“You wouldn’t do your country any good by 
dying,” smiled Bob. “It ’s better to live for it. 
Now my plan is to choose now some of the 
smaller boys we can trust to take our places if 
we ’re deported or vanish. There ’s Leo and Al- 
bert. Why not elect them as our successors and 
pledge them to go on with the work?” 

“Guy d’Assches is cleverer than either Leopold 
or Albert,” suggested Egmont. 

“Well, put Guy in, or Georges de Ligne. 
They ’re both good.” 

“I don’t like to think of it,” Egmont muttered 
again, shuddering. “Do you think there ’s much 
danger of our being taken?” 

“My dear cousin, anything ’s likely to happen 
in Belgium, but why worry? I ’m not going to 
let it trouble me. I ’m going ahead just as if I 
never expected anything to happen to me. It ’s 


38 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


the way the soldier goes into battle. If he stopped 
to think of death every time he heard a bullet 
whine over his head, he would n’t have time to do 
anything.” 

Egmont shook off the depression that had 
temporarily unnerved him, and nodded his 
head. 

^‘Yes, of course, cousin,” he replied. ’m 
ashamed of myself for appearing so weak. I ’ll 
not speak so again. We ’ll go on until our time 
comes, and then — ” 

‘Tf they do get us into Germany,” was the 
smiling interruption, ‘Ve ’ll start organizing. 
Vigilantes over there to plague them. We might 
smuggle back some useful information to Guy 
and Leo and the other members.” 

They laughed at such a wild scheme to intro- 
duce in G^many itself the system of spying that 
had proved so successful at home. They were 
young and hopeful, and danger had become such 
a common part of their daily life that they could 
make light of it. Belgium had been in a state 
of terror for nearly four years until the noise of 
big guns and the whine of enemy airships float- 


TEACHING THE HUNS A TRICK 39 


ing overhead no longer surprised or frightened 
any one. War had been accepted as the natural 
thing, and people went about their business in 
dull apathy day after day. 

Bob, who had been waiting to see Egmont on 
important business, suddenly recalled that his 
cousin’s story had completely driven this from 
his mind. With a little catch of his breath, he 
now remembered it, and turned excitedly to the 
other. 

“Egmont, I forgot!” he exclaimed. “We’ve 
just found something important. Guy and I 
stumbled upon it this morning.” 

“What is it?” asked Egmont, aroused by the 
other’s eagerness. 

“The key to the German mines under the Hotel 
de Ville. The whole square is mined, ready to 
be blown up the moment the Huns have to evac- 
uate Brussels.” 

“You ’ve found the mines?” 

“Not exactly, but something better. We ’ve 
found the wires that lead to them. The mines 
are laid deep down under the cellars, and we 
could hardly dig for them, but they ’re all con- 


40 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


nected by wires that run into the old Guild House 
on the corner. That ’s where the German officers 
are quartered, you know.’’ 

Egmont nodded, and Bob went on excitedly, 
but in a lower voice, as if the walls might have 
ears that could not be trusted with such a weighty 
secret. 

‘‘They start from the cellar of the corner Guild 
House, and run in all directions to the mines. A 
touch of a button would, of course, blow up the 
whole square, wrecking the Hotel de Ville, the 
Maison du Roi, and all the historic guild houses 
of the archers and skippers and printers. It 
would be terrible! ” 

“The dastardly cowards 1 ” exclaimed Egmont, 
angrily. “They ’d destroy ever)d:hing that is 
beautiful in Belgium! They stop at nothing! 
Why do they want to blow up all we have left. 
Bob? Is that war?” 

“Is it war to bayonet and kill women and chil- 
dren?” asked Bob, in a hard voice. “Is it war 
to torture prisoners and starve non-combatants? 
No, it ’s savagery, Egmont, the kind of savagery 
that our American Indians would be ashamed of ! 


TEACHING THE HUNS A TRICK 41 


But it ’s Germany’s method of war. We ought 
to know it by this time. If she ’s forced to evac- 
uate Belgium, she ’ll blow up or destroy every 
building that she can. That ’s why we must de- 
feat her plans, and save the superb Grande 
Place.” 

^‘Saveit? How can we do that?” 

Egmont looked stupidly at his cousin, as he 
asked this question. Then seeing the light in 
the other’s eyes, he added, ‘‘Oh, you mean we can 
cut the wires or dig up the mines?” 

“If we cut the wires would n’t they discover the 
break in time and repair them?” queried Bob, 
smiling. 

“Yes, of course, and then keep a watch down 
there for any one attempting to tamper with them 
again.” 

“Sure, and if we tried it the second time we ’d 
get nabbed. We can’t run that risk. But 
there ’s another trick we can play, and they ’ll 
never get on to it until it ’s too late.” 

“I don’t understand,” murmured Egmont. 

“I ’ll explain,” said Bob. “We ’re going to 
cut the wires, all of them, one by one — and then 


4^ THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

repair them,'' Then, as his cousin stared 
blankly at him, he laughed good-naturedly. 
^‘See these, Egmont," and he held up a bunch of 
short wires, carefully insulated with cotton 
sheathing. “What do you think they are?" 

“Pieces of copper wire, aren't they?" 

“They look like that, don't they — the kind of 
wires you use for electrical work? But they 're 
not, Egmont. There 's no wire in them. The 
center of each is nothing but a strip of candle- 
wick. Guy and I wrapped them carefully with 
this insulation that we stripped off of some old 
wires. Nobody, by looking at them, could tell 
them from the real thing, could they?" 

Egmont shook his head as he took one of the 
strips in his hand and closely examined it. 

“Well," Bob continued, “we 're going to cut 
the wires that connect the mines — cut several 
inches out of each one — and then repair the break 
with these strips of candle-wick. No inquisitive 
German, nosing around down there, would ever 
discover the trick. He 'd report the wires in 
good condition. Then, on the day set for the ex- 
plosion, what would happen? There would be 


TEACHING THE HUNS A TRICK 43 


no explosion! The electricity couldn’t bridge 
the gap.” 

With a hand trembling with excitement, Eg- 
mont seized one of the imitation wires again and 
looked at it. Then he smiled happily. ‘‘They 
won^t be able to blow up the square, you mean, 
Bob?” 

“Not with those mines laid for the purpose, 
and if they had to leave in a hurry they would n’t 
have time to lay others. The order to blow up 
the square would be left until the last moment. 
So they wouldn’t have time to do much damage.” 

“But where are the mines and wires?” de- 
manded Egmont. “I want to help cut them — ^to 
have a hand in it.” 

“Of course, the future Count d’Anethan must 
be one of those who are to save Belgium’s beau- 
tiful capital from destruction by the Huns. If 
you ’re rested now, we ’ll go. Guy will be wait- 
ing for us. We want to finish the job before 
night.” 

Forgetting all his weariness and hunger, Eg- 
mont picked up his cap and followed his cousin 
down the broad stairway and through the arched 


44 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


courtyard into the street. They waited at the 
entrance long enough to look up and down the 
street for any signs of German soldiers, and then 
scurried along to another house a block away. 

This was the home of Guy d’Assches, a boy a 
year or two younger than either of the cousins. 
Guy had been expecting them, and let them in. 
“Why didn’t you come before?” he asked. 
“I ’ve been waiting hours for you.” 

“I had to explain our little scheme to Egmont,” 
Bob replied. “He knows all about it now.” 

“Isn’t it a fine idea?” asked Guy, eagerly. 

“The best yeti We must hurry and fix the 
wires. Something might happen to set off the 
mines by accident. Suppose some stupid soldier 
should tamper with them.” 

“No danger of that,” laughed Bob. “They 
won’t have the wires connected with the battery. 
That would be too dangerous.” 

“We ought to go out one at a time,” said Guy, 
“otherwise we ’ll excite some Hun’s suspicion. 
If a sentry sees three boys together, he thinks he 
sees an army, and instantly gets excited. Sup- 
pose we separate now, and meet in the sewer.” 


TEACHING THE HUNS A TRICK 45 

“That ’s safer/’ replied Bob. “I ’ll start 
first.” 

Leaving the house stealthily, he made his way 
along the street until he reached the main boule- 
vard, where his identity was immediately lost 
among the Ciowd there. Following the stream of 
pedestrians to the lower part of the town, he 
turned once more into a narrow side street lined 
with old houses, whose faded fronts had a pic- 
turesque effect. 

A few blocks farther brought him to one of the 
canals that had been partly covered. These 
canals, fed by the Senne River, had at one time 
been important arteries of commerce, but many 
of them had been abandoned and partly or com- 
pletely arched over. 

Bob halted at one of the arches, and began 
aimlessly, tossing small stones and chips into the 
water; but all the while he was furtively glancing 
back and in front of him to see if any uniformed 
German was watching him. Suddenly he slipped 
down out of sight so swiftly that an observer 
might have thought the ground had opened to 
receive him. 


46 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


Once out of sight in the shallow canal, he 
waded up it rapidly until he came to a familiar 
opening, which he knew to be the old, abandoned 
sewer that entered the canal at right angles, above 
the water-line. Dripping and muddy, he crawled 
through the opening of the dry sewer and threw 
himself down on the hard stone floor to wait for 
his companions. 

They appeared a few moments later, creeping 
through the darkness like half-drowned rats. 
Guy came first, reaching the sewer from the right, 
and Egmont next, from the left. Bob rose and 
struck a match, with which he lighted small 
candles. 

‘^This way, Egmont,’^ he whispered to his 
cousin. ^‘Follow me!*’ 

Then followed a long, tortuous, underground 
trip, which, to the uninitiated, would have been 
decidedly puzzling; but the boys knew every 
canal and every foot of the sewer. When they 
came to a point half a mile away from the first 
entrance. Bob stopped and raised a hand. 

‘‘We Ye right under the corner Guild House,” 
he whispered. “The bunch of wires comes down 


TEACHING THE HUNS A TRICK 47 

here. Here they are, Egmont. You can see 
them!” 

Egmont stepped eagerly forward and gazed at 
the strands of electric wires that ran through a 
metal tube over his head, and then spread out in 
all directions. They had been installed by an 
expert, for they were carefully protected and 
firmly fastened to little brackets in the sides of 
the walls. 

‘^Now we ’ll teach the Huns a trick or two!” 
murmured Bob, in a low voice. “Let me have 
your cutters, Guy. I ’ll begin on this wire.” 


CHAPTER IV 


UNDER THE GUILD HOUSE 

T he plan of the young Vigilantes was sim- 
ple, and they worked silently and swiftly. 
Bob clipped the wires where they were exposed 
after leaving the metal tube, cutting a piece from 
each one and then replacing it with a strip of 
the fake wire, skilfully concealing the joinings 
with extra strips of insulation. They worked 
these over carefully, so that no inspector, sent 
down to examine the wires, would suspect they 
had been tampered with. 

Finally Bob grunted. ‘‘There! I don’t be- 
lieve any one will discover the trick,” he said. 
“What do you think?” 

Guy and Egmont made a careful examination 
of his work before answering. 

“Good!” exclaimed Guy. “I couldn’t tell 
them from real wires myself. No fat-witted 
Boche will ever see the difference.” 

48 


UNDER THE GUILD HOUSE 


49 


Egmont nodded his head vigorously. ^‘You 
ought to have been an electrician, Bob,” he said. 
^^You Ve done a splendid job.” 

^^Every American boy ’s an electrician,” was 
the rejoinder. used to wire electric bells be- 
fore I was ten. Now if the job suits you, we dl 
get out of here.” 

‘‘Listen!” exclaimed Egmont. “What’s that 
noise?” 

“The German officers in the Guild House over 
our heads,” replied Guy. “They ’re carousing, 
as usual.” 

The muffled rumbling overhead could hardly 
be identified as laughter and singing; but Bob 
assured his cousin that Guy was right. They had 
heard it before, when they first made their dis- 
covery of the wires. 

“This metal tube runs directly into the cellar 
of the Guild House,” he explained, “and if the 
cellar door is open, the noise comes right through 
it. There, they ’ve closed the door, and we can’t 
hear them any more.” 

The muffled rumble of voices had stopped, and 
all was again quiet in their subterranean hiding- 


50 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


place. They waited a few moments to see if it 
was renewed. 

“How ’d they get down here to string the 
wires Egmont whispered, after a long pause. 

“Followed the sewer as we did, I suppose,^’ re- 
plied Bob. “They must have known about it. 
They had maps and plans of the city long before 
the war. Brussels was full of German spies. 
They knew more about the city than lots of Bel- 
gians. I should n’t be surprised if they had the 
plan for mining it drawn up years ago.” 

“Yes,” sighed Egmont, “some of our best 
friends were traitors. You remember the palace 
of Duke d’Arenberg. It was mined and tun- 
neled. The duke was a German, and before the 
war he removed most of his valuables to Ger- 
many. He pretended to be a Belgian at heart, 
but he was a traitor. The poor duchess must 
have had a terrible time.” 

“Who was the duchess? Was she a German, 
too?” asked Bob, who was not familiar with the 
nobility. 

“No, she was a Belgian — the daughter of the 
Princess de Ligne. She must have suffered ter- 


UNDER THE GUILD HOUSE 51 

ribly when she discovered the duke was a traitor 
in disguise.” 

‘Ht ^s no worse than — ” Guy began, when Bob 
interrupted him with a cautious whisp^er. 

“The cellar door ’s open again. Hear the 
noise! ” 

They listened once more in silence until the 
sound died away. 

“I ’d like to get a peep into the Guild House to 
see what they ’re doing,” remarked Guy. “We 
might learn something important.” 

“And get shot for our pains,” replied Egmont. 

“I ’ll bet they have some way of getting down 
here from the cellar,” Bob said thoughtfully. “I 
don’t believe, after all, they came in here by the 
canals. Who owned the corner Guild House be- 
fore the war?” 

“Why,” Egmont began hesitatingly, “I don’t 
remember his name.” 

“It was a German,” interrupted Guy. “I re- 
member now. He was an old, fat, coffee mer- 
chant. I heard some one say — I think it was 
Albert — that he turned out to be a spy. His 
place was full of boxes and barrels, which had 


52 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


guns and ammunition packed in them. When 
the Germans entered the city, the officers went 
straight to his place.’’ 

‘‘Then it was all deliberately planned,” Bob 
said. “Perhaps there ’s a way of getting down 
here from the cellar. I ’m going to look for it.” 

Guy and Egmont were both eager to join in 
the search, and they began a careful examination 
of the sewer wall. 

“If this metal tube runs down from the cellar,” 
Bob added a moment later, “the entrance, if 
there ’s one, must be somewhere near it. No use 
looking more than a dozen feet on either side.” 

With their field of exploration narrowed by 
this sensible conclusion, they renewed their 
search, casting the light from their candles back 
and forth, and feeling the rough sides of the 
stone vault with their hands. 

Suddenly Bob touched something hard and 
smooth that was neither stone nor brick. 

“What ’s this?” he asked excitedly. Then, a 
moment later, he answered his own question: 
“it’s an iron door! Yes, here are the hinges. 


UNDER THE GUILD HOUSE 


53 


It ’s curved to fit the roof of the sewer. It must 
be the entrance to the cellar ! ” 

Their excitement was great, but for a moment 
they were undecided what to do. If the door led 
directly into the cellar of the Guild House, which 
the Germans were using as an officers’ club and 
meeting-place, it might be dangerous to force it 
open. Finally, however. Bob placed both hands 
against the iron plate and pushed upward. The 
door yielded slowly to his effort. ‘Tt ’s not 
locked!” he whispered. ‘^See! I can open it.” 

‘^Better not,” cautioned Egmont. ^‘We might 
get caught in a trap.” 

'^We don’t want to do that,” was the murmured 
reply, ^‘but I ’m crazy to get a look at what ’s 
above.” 

Bob stopped a moment and considered. 
“Guy,” he said then, “stand by the metal pipe 
and listen. I ’m going through this door. You 
can give me the signal if any one opens the cellar 
door above, and I can get back without being 
seen.” 

Egmont wasn’t quite sure that they should 


54 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


undertake this risky enterprise, but Guy nodded 
his head, and took his station where the wires 
came through the roof. Bob once more applied 
an upward pressure to the iron door, and, with 
his cousin’s assistance, it was soon forced open. 

They listened intently for some time before 
making another move. There was no noise from 
above. It was as quiet and deathlike in the 
musty cellar as in the sewer. 

^‘Hand me the candle,” Bob whispered. “I 
can’t see a thing up here.” ^ 

Then, holding the candle, he mounted on his 
cousin’s shoulders until he was high enough to 
thrust his head and shoulders through the open- 
ing. From this point of advantage, he got a 
clear view of the space above. 

‘Tt is n’t the cellar,” he whispered down to the 
others. ‘Tt ’s a sort of subcellar. There ’s an- 
other above this. I don’t believe any one comes 
down here very often.” 

'Tt may be the wine-cellar,” replied Egmont. 

“Then we ’ll have to be careful, for they ’re 
drinking enough up there to need a new supply 
before long. Anyway, I ’m going to explore,” 


UNDER THE GUILD HOUSE 


56 


Placing the candle on the floor, he pulled him- 
self up until he stood in the black, musty sub- 
cellar of the old Guild House. The place was 
filled with boxes and barrels, many of them filled 
witR rare old vintages of the best wine, and 
others, broken open and empty, testifying to the 
thirst of the invading enemy. Guy and Egmont 
waited anxiously below. The fear that some one 
might come and surprise Bob made them nervous. 

But it was n’t casks of wine that the latter was 
looking for. Now that he was in the subcellar, 
he was curious to know how it was entered from 
above. He finally stumbled upon a rude pair of 
steps in one corner. 

He could now hear the muffled noises more dis- 
tinctly. The Germans were talking and laugh- 
ing loudly, breaking out occasionally into rough 
song. The sounds came to Bob’s ears as clearly 
as though they were in the next room. He 
wanted to get a look into the club-room, but the 
danger attending this made him hesitate. 

Finally, curiosity got the better of him, but he 
was still cautious. Returning to the iron door, 
he whispered to his companions: ‘T ’ve found 


56 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


the stairs leading above. I going up to ex- 
plore.’^ 

‘‘Better not, Bob,” expostulated Guy. “You 
might get caught, and then all our fixing of the 
wires will be wasted.” 

“I ’m not going to get caught, nor am I going 
to spoil our job,” was the reply. “I want you 
and Egmont to close the door, and keep it closed 
until I rap on it. No, I can open it from this 
side when I want to return.” 

“Bob, you dl be captured and shot 1 ” exclaimed 
Egmont. “Please don’t do it!” 

“I ’m not going to run any risk, Egmont. If 
anybody comes down here, I can hide behind the 
boxes and casks. There ’s plenty of room. He 
couldn’t find me in this dark hole for a week. 
There ’s no danger. I ’ll be very careful.” 

Although willing to risk danger, when neces- 
sary, Bob had never been foolhardy, and both of 
his companions realized this. The secrecy of 
their cause was as much his as theirs, and after 
a few more words of protest they let him have his 
own way. 

Creeping slowly up the stairs, Bob fumbled 


UNDER THE GUILD HOUSE 


57 


around in the dark for the latch of the door above. 
He had extinguished his candle and dropped it in 
his pocket for future use. A light might betray 
him. 

It was an ordinary trap-door that he encoun- 
tered, let into the floor of the cellar proper, and 
swinging upward. Bob tested it and found it un- 
locked. Inch by inch, listening cautiously and 
peering intently through the widening crack, he 
raised it until it was far enough open to give him 
a good view of the upper cellar. 

Like the subcellar it seemed filled with a mot- 
ley collection of boxes and casks. They rose tier 
upon tier on all four sides. It was not necessary 
to use his candle to see. A path of strong day- 
light poured through an open doorway at the 
head of the stairs that led into the rooms above. 
It was through this opening that the boisterous 
laughing and carousing came. 

Bob paused a long time, listening and looking, 
holding the trap-door in such a position that he 
could quickly close it if any one appeared. The 
cellar, like the subcellar, was deserted, but there 
was more danger of being surprised here. He 


58 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

had no desire to push his investigations further. 

He had learned all that was necessary. The 
old German coffee-merchant, who had lived in 
the corner Guild House before the invasion, had 
secretly prepared his place for the reception of 
the German officers. The subcellar had been 
dug below the main cellar after the innocent ap- 
pearing coffee-merchant had taken possession of 
the building, and the opening into the abandoned 
sewer had then been cut and the iron door fitted 
to it. 

Perhaps the mines to blow up the square had 
even been laid prior to the invasion, in order to 
destroy that part of the city in the rear of the Bel- 
gian army if, for any reason, the Germans had 
been checked. It was certainly no worse than 
many other of the diabolical plans laid by the 
Huns. 

The boisterous carousing of the German of- 
ficers struck Bob with peculiar force, and made 
him shudder with disgust and rage. While the 
Belgians suffered the torments of hunger and 
fear, the invaders drank toasts, and plotted, and 
planned further outrages. The blood mounted 


UNDER THE GUILD HOUSE 


69 


to his forehead, and his heart swelled with anger. 

“I ’d like to blow up the whole square and kill 
them all,’’ he muttered under his breath. 
could do it too.,” 

He thought of the great power that had sud- 
denly been put in his possession. He had not 
examined the upper ends of the wires coming 
through the iron tube, but he had no doubt they 
were connected with an electric battery, or could 
be connected in a short time. By replacing the 
pieces of wire he had cut out, he could then exter- 
minate all the staff officers assembled in the 
building. More than that, he could blow into 
eternity whole regiments of Germans quartered 
in the different buildings of the square. 

But he would wreck the most magnificent 
buildings of any capital in the world — the superb 
Grande Place, second to none in Europe, with the 
beautiful Hotel de Ville, the galleried and much- 
gilded Maison du Roi, and the many guild houses 
of the archers and skippers, the printers and mer- 
chants. Not only that, but hundreds of inno- 
cent Belgians — men, women, and children — 
would meet their fate with the Germans. 


60 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

No! such a thought was too terrible for con- 
sideration. He had to be content with his pres- 
ent work. He had to save rather than destroy. 
It was not the mission of the Boy Vigilantes to 
make conditions worse in Brussels, even though a 
few important German officers would be killed 
in the process. 

He sighed and started to close the door. 
There was no object in pursuing his investiga- 
tions further, and his two companions would be 
growing restless and anxious. Suddenly back of 
him a queer noise arrested his attention. It 
sounded as if some one had tried to suppress a 
sneeze by smothering it in his hands. The muf- 
fled effect was so distinctly human, and at the 
same time alarming, that Bob stood a moment in 
rigid silence, holding the door partly open. 

His first thought was that it came from either 
Guy or Egmont, who, in their anxiety for him, 
had raised the iron door to see if he was safe. 
He closed the cellar door gently, and stood a 
moment in the darkness at the head of the stairs. 
There was no sound, no repetition of the sneeze, 
nothing to indicate that any one was near him. 


UNDER THE GUILD HOUSE 


61 


“Guy!’’ he called softly. “Egmontl” 

He waited for an answer, but none came. 
With the trap-door closed over his head, he felt 
reasonably safe from the Germans above, and he 
repeated the call in a louder voice. If the door 
opening into the sewer was lifted, his companions 
could hear him this time. But again there was 
no response. 

For the first time Bob felt genuine alarm. He 
could not be mistaken in that suppressed sneeze. 
Some one was in the dark subcellar with him, and 
if it was neither Guy nor Egmont, who was it? 
Bob asked himself this question, and answered it 
in quaking fear. Who else could it be but a 
German officer or spy? 


CHAPTER V 


THE FIGHT IN THE CELLAR 

I N the moments that followed Bob seemed to 
live an age, almost an eternity, for the thought 
that he was trapped in the subcellar terrified him. 
There was no escape upward, for if he climbed 
through the trap-door into the cellar he would 
make his capture all the more certain. His en- 
emy could follow him, close the trap-door, and 
summon help from above. 

His one hope was to hide in the darkness of 
the subcellar and grope his way toward the iron 
door of the sewer and get through it. Mean- 
while, if his unknown enemy were creeping upon 
him, he would corner him at the foot of the stairs 
unless he changed his position. His adversary 
had the advantage in the dark. He knew Bob^s 
exact position, while the boy had n’t the vaguest 
notion of where his enemy was hiding. 

Realizing this, Bob decided to act before he 
62 


THE EIGHT IN THE CELLAR 


63 


was caught. Instead of creeping down the short 
flight of stairs where the man would expect to 
meet him, he swung over the side and clung to 
the top step a moment to listen. Nothing had 
moved in the place, and so far as Bob could tell 
by any noise the subcellar was deserted. 

But experience had taught him extreme cau- 
tion. A wily enemy would not expose his posi- 
tion by making a noise. He would wait in 
breathless silence for Bob to betray his position. 
Hanging there by the top step so that his body 
was suspended directly under the stairs, the 
young Vigilante waited until the muscles of his 
arms began to ache. He could not remain in 
that awkward position for any great length of 
time. 

He began swinging his feet sideways, hoping 
to touch something on the floor below — a box or 
barrel. But they struck nothing but empty air. 
Subconsciously he began counting the number of 
steps. There were five or six. He could not re- 
call exactly how many. But granting the maxi- 
mum number, his feet could not be more than a 
few inches, or a foot at the most, from the floor. 


64 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


When his muscles had reached a point where 
he felt he could no longer hold on, he decided to 
let go and drop to the floor. If he could reach it 
without making a noise, there was a chance of 
getting away from the enemy before he could 
grapple with him. Then it would be a case of 
hide-and-seek for both of them, with neither hav- 
ing any advantage of the other. 

He counted three, and then loosened his grip 
on the top step. The drop could not have been 
more than a couple of inches, for Bob’s toes 
touched the floor so suddenly that he was com- 
pletely surprised and thrown off his guard. The 
jolt was similar to that experienced by one who, 
in descending a flight of stairs in the darkness, 
suddenly finds himself at the bottom instead of 
one more step from it. 

It gave Bob a shock. The noise made by his 
two heels coming down on the floor echoed 
through the subcellar. To make matters worse 
he had stepped on a splinter of a box and snapped 
it in two. The effect was startling. 

Bob should have leaped immediately away 
from the stairs the moment he touched the bot- 


THE EIGHT IN THE CELLAR 


65 


tom. Indeed, that had been his intention, but 
the unexpected surprise of his fall temporarily 
disconcerted him. Before he could recover and 
sneak away, his unknown enemy took advantage 
of the situation. 

There was a swift, silent rush through the 
darkness, and Bob felt himself carried down- 
ward by the impact of a strong, heavy body. A 
hand sought for his throat and gripped it before 
he could utter a scream for help. Choking and 
gurgling, he rolled over, with his enemy on top. 

The boy was no match for the burly figure that 
pinned him to the floor. Indeed, he had n’t the 
faintest shadow of a chance from the first. 
Taking Bob by surprise, the man had attacked 
so swiftly and vigorously that the struggle was 
all in his favor from the beginning. 

The cruel hand tightened its grip on the boy’s 
throat until Bob’s breath came in little wheezy 
gasps. In vain he kicked and struggled, but the 
weight of the body on him held him down so 
firmly that his efforts were ineffectual. 

Bob had a vision of being choked to death in 
the dark subcellar. It was a horrible end. The 


66 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

thought frightened him, and the very horror of it 
suddenly made him quiet. He ceased his strug- 
gling and dropped back limp and nerveless. 

The relaxation of his muscles must have con- 
vinced his adversary that he had nothing further 
to fear, for the terrible grip on his throat less- 
ened a little, enabling Bob to draw in some air 
in short, wheezy gasps. For a moment he lay 
there, his body racked with convulsive spasms. 

“Scream, and I ^11 choke the life out of you!’^ 
his enemy hissed, speaking for the first time. 

Bob remained quiet. He had no desire to be 
choked any more. His body lay as limp as a 
rag on the damp, musty floor. 

“I don’t know why I don’t kill you,” growled 
the man. “I may yet. A dead Boche is the only 
safe Boche” 

Bob’s mind was greatly confused by his physi- 
cal pain, and for a moment he did not take in 
the significance of this last remark. A dead 
Boche is the only safe Boche! He seemed to re- 
peat it over in his mind. Was he a Boche? 
Was he a German being choked to death by — 
by— 


THE FIGHT IN THE CELLAR 67 

His mind came back with a rush from its wan- 
derings. Who was his enemy? Wasn’t he a 
German? Was n’t the man one of the officers or 
a watchman who had been hiding below to guard 
the wires? By a supreme effort he swallowed, 
and then opened his dry lips, and said faintly: 

‘T ’m not a German.” 

‘‘Eh! ” exclaimed the man. “Not a German?” 

Then he laughed unpleasantly, a deep, throaty 
gurgle that was worse than his growl. 

“A trick — a German trick!” he added, tight- 
ening his grip. “I ’ll kill you for that.” 

Perhaps he would have put this threat into exe- 
cution if at that moment the iron door of the sewer 
had n’t opened. Egmont’s head was thrust 
through the opening. 

“Bob!” he called softly. 

Unconsciously the grip of his enemy’s hand 
tightened until the agony seemed unbearable. 

“Bob, where are you?” repeated Egmont. 

He held in one hand a lighted candle, w^hich he 
lifted high over his head so the rays from it 
spread dimly about the room. But the light did 
not disclose the faces of the two combatants 


68 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


nearly as clearly as it did that of the speaker. 
Egmont’s features were plainly visible to both 
Bob and his enemy. 

Complete silence followed — a silence so great 
that Bob’s gasps for breath could be plainly 
heard. Then suddenly to his surprise and aston- 
ishment, the man said in a hoarse whisper: 

‘‘Egmont ! Egmont, is that you?” 

The candle nearly fell out of the boy’s hand at 
the sound of this strange voice in the subcellar. 
It was not Bob speaking to him, but another, 
whose voice seemed familiar. He thrust the can- 
dle toward the man until it lighted up his fea- 
tures. 

‘‘Jean de Chokier!” he exclaimed, with a glad 
little cry of relief. 

“What are you doing here, Jean?” he added. 
“I thought you were killed or with the army.” 

“I ’ve been killed a dozen deaths, Egmont, but 
I ’m still alive ! ” came the reply, accompanied by 
a soft chuckle. “The Boches can’t kill Jean de 
Chokier.” 

Egmont stared at him, and then thrust the can- 


THE FIGHT IN THE CELLAR 69 

die downward until it lighted up Bob’s white, 
drawn face. 

'^Bob!” he exclaimed, giving a start. Then, 
indignantly, he addressed Jean: “What ’re you 
doing to Bob? You ’re choking him! Let him 
up! Stop it, Jean! Stop it at once! Oh, 
you ’ve nearly killed him! ” 

He sprang through the opening, and tried to 
push the man off Bob. Jean relaxed his grip 
and looked stupidly from Egmont to Bob. 

“Is he — is he a friend?” he asked in a sheep- 
ish voice. 

“He ’s my American cousin, Bob Lane. Oh, 
you’ve hurt him! You’ve nearly killed him. 
Bob! Bob, speak to me. You ’re not dead, are 
you?” 

Bob, gasping for breath, shook his head. He 
was unable to speak. Assured of his safety, Eg- 
mont turned angrily upon the other. 

“If you ’d killed him, Jean, I ’d never forgive 
you. He ’s the best friend Belgium has. He — 
he—” 

Bob interrupted by rising to a sitting position. 


70 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


He was still torn and racked by pain, with his 
lungs panting for breath; but the unexpected re- 
lief from the vise-like grip was so great that he 
could afford to grin and smile. 

^Tt ’s all right, Egmonf,'’ he whispered. ‘Tf 
Jean ’s a friend of yours, I don’t mind. But he 
has a powerful grip in that right hand of his. 
I thought I was done for.” 

Jean, who had managed to grasp the situation 
finally, was all contrition. 

‘T ’m sorry,” he stammered. ‘T took you for 
a Boche, and — and — Je vous demands pardon, 
monsieur** 

Bob nodded his head in token of his apprecia- 
tion of the other’s distress. 

‘Tt ’s all right,” he murmured. ^‘You nearly 
got me, but — ” 

He twisted his neck around, and felt of it with 
both hands. It was so sore and stiff he wondered 
if he would ever get the use of it again. At- 
tracted by the noise, Guy d’Assches thrust his 
head through the opening, and called softly: 

‘‘What is it, Egmont? Has anything hap- 
pened to Bob?” 


THE FIGHT IN THE CELLAR 


71 


Before the latter could reply Jean de Chokier 
gave a little glad cry and sprang toward the 
speaker. 

*‘Guy, bon ami I Dieu merci!” 

To Bob’s surprise he flung both arms around 
Guy and embraced him, and then kissed him on 
both cheeks. Guy returned the demonstration of 
enthusiasm with equal fervor. 

‘^How glad I am to see you, Jean!” he said. 
^‘We heard you were killed or captured. Char- 
lotte will be delighted. She ’s been mourning you 
as dead.” 

‘‘Charlotte! Dear Charlotte! Tell me about 
her. She ’s nearly grown up now, I suppose. It 
was for her I risked everything. I had to see 
her. Don’t tell me anything dreadful has hap- 
pened to her.” A look of fear came into his face 
an instant, and did not disappear until Guy had 
reassured him. 

“No, Charlotte ’s all right. She ’s home with 
her grandparents. I think the news you ’re alive 
will almost kill her for joy.” 

“It ’s a nice way of dying — for joy,” replied 
Jean, smiling and showing a clean set of white 


72 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


teeth. “I must see her soon. You will help 
me ? I have risked everything to see her. I had 
to know if she had suffered anything dreadful. 
Nobody knows what has become of their loved 
ones back home. Four years I Ve been away, 
and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to 
come.” 

‘‘You did n’t desert, Jean, did you?” asked Eg- 
mont, a little sternness creeping into his voice. 

The man shrugged his shoulders and shook his 
head. 

“A month’s furlough, Egmont, after four years 
in the trenches. Is n’t it good that I should use 
it to come home to see my beloved sister? Oh, 
I ’m crazy to see her ! ” 

“Is he Charlotte de Chokier’s brother?” whis- 
pered Bob, who had been trying to piece together 
the snatches of conversation, and make sense out 
of them. 

“Yes,” nodded Egmont. “They ’re brother 
and sister. When the war broke out Jean joined 
the army and left Charlotte in the care of their 
grandparents. They haven’t seen each other 
since.” 


THE FIGHT IN THE CELLAR 7S 

Bob, who had a special fondness for Charlotte, 
who throughout the four years of German occu- 
pation had stood nobly by her grandparents, en- 
couraging them with her bravery and fortitude, 
turned to the man who had so recently been chok- 
ing him, and extended a hand. 

^Hf you ’re Charlotte’s brother,” he said, ‘‘let 
me shake hands, Jean. There is n’t a nobler girl 
in Belgium than your sister.” 

“Nor in the world,” was the prompt reply, as 
the soldier took the proffered hand and squeezed 
it. Then in a tone of repentance, he added: 
“I am so sorry I squeezed the throat. I took you 
for a Boche, and I had to act quickly. Does it 
hurt much?” 

“No,” laughed Bob, “not now, but you did 
give it an awful squeeze. I ’m glad you ’re a 
friend and not an enemy.” 

“Tell us how you got down here, Jean,” Eg- 
mont broke in eagerly. 

“Listen! Is it safe? They may hear us 
above.” 

The noise from above suddenly made them 
more cautious. Bob rose to his feet. “We 


74 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


must n’t talk any more here,” he whispered. 
‘^Come down in the sewer, where we ’ll be safe.” 

‘‘The sewer!” Jean repeated in surprise. 
“Oh, does that hole go into the sewer?” He 
pointed to the opening through which the boys 
had come. 

“Yes, didn’t you know it?” Guy answered. 

“Not for sure. I stumbled upon the iron door, 
and tried to open it, but it was locked.” 

“Why, it was n’t locked when we tried to open 
it,” replied Egmont. 

Jean grinned. “No, for I had broken the 
lock. It took me two days and a night. Then 
when I was ready to go down you — he” — point- 
ing to Bob — “came up. I thought I had been 
discovered.” 

“Well,” laughed Bob, “everything worked out 
all right. If we had come sooner we could n’t 
have gotten through, and if we ’d come later 
you ’d been gone.” 

“It opens into the sewer?” Jean queried, look- 
ing at the dark hole. 

“Yes, the abandoned sewer under the old town. 
You remember when they put in new sewers this 


THE FIGHT IN THE CELLAR 75 

one was considered too small then, and it was 
abandoned.’’ 

Jean shook his head as he recalled this fact. 

^‘Now come down, and we can talk things 
over,” added Egmont. 

They crawled through the opening and care- 
fully closed the iron door behind them. The 
only thing that disturbed their peace of mind was 
that the Germans might have their suspicions 
aroused when they discovered -the loss of the pad- 
lock. In breaking it Jean may have left a clue 
behind that might lead to a careful investigation 
of the wires. But when Bob expressed this fear 
in words, the Belgian soldier shook his head. 

“No, I think not. They seldom come down 
here. It ’s the subcellar. They come into the 
cellar to get wine every day, but not in the sub- 
cellar. It ’s mostly filled with rubbish and 
empty wine casks.” 

Safely hidden in the sewer, with no chance of 
their voices being overheard, they turned to Jean, 
and began eagerly prying him with questions. 
The story of how he got into such a hiding-place 
was no more interesting than the news he could 


76 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


give them of conditions behind the battle front, 
where King Albert and his brave soldiers were 
fighting with the Allies to hold the last corner of 
Belgium from the invaders. 


CHAPTER VI 


NEWS FROM THE ERONT 

J EAN DE CHOKIER, brother of Charlotte, a 
bright, plucky girl who lived alone with her 
grandparents in a big house near the Palais 
d’Anethan, had fought with that gallant army of 
Belgians who had retarded the progress of the 
German hordes from Brussels to Antwerp and 
from Antwerp to Ypres, and then in desperation 
had turned upon the enemy in a series of bloody 
battles to retain the last corner of their beloved 
country from the invaders. With the aid of the 
British, they had clung tenaciously to it, repelling 
attack after attack until the toll of death the Ger- 
mans were forced to pay shook their morale. 

Then had come the winters of trench warfare, 
relieved in summer by fierce offensives and 
counter-offensives, which showed little gain of 
territory for either side. For four bloody years 
King Albert’s army had hung on, refusing to 
77 


78 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

evacuate the native soil they had sacrificed so 
much to defend. 

Jean had been through a dozen battles. He 
had been wounded, gassed, and blown up. Once 
he had been left for dead in No-Man’s-Land. 
One third of the time he had spent in hospitals or 
in recuperating behind the lines. But apparently 
nothing could kill him. He surely had what 
many superstitious soldiers call a charmed life. 

‘‘A stiff knee, a little limp, and this scar in the 
cheek,” he added, smiling, when he had briefly 
sketched his career. ^‘That ^s all the Boches 
could do to me.” 

The boys had listened to his stories of adven- 
ture in dumb silence, their eyes fairly popping 
out of their head at times. Jean appreciated his 
spell-bound audience, and felt quite puffed up 
by their attention. They knew nothing of war — 
nothing as he had seen it. Therefore, he could 
dilate upon some of its excitements and play up 
the spectacular. 

“So,” he added, “when I got a month's fur- 
lough, I said I 'd come home to see my sister. I 
had n't heard from her or the dear grandparents. 


NEWS FROM THE FRONT 


79 


I was n’t sure but they were dead, and that Char- 
lotte had been deported to Germany. She must 
be a big girl now. Four years is a long time.” 

^^Yes, Charlotte ’s grown,” replied Egmont. 
‘‘You ’ll hardly know her, Jean. And she ’s 
beautiful like all the Chokiers.” 

“But you have n’t told us yet how you got in 
that cellar,” interrupted Guy. 

Jean smiled and fumbled in his pocket for a 
cigarette, and looked forlorn and disappointed 
when he found none. “It was easy,” he nodded, 
“to crossing Belgium, traveling by night and hid- 
ing in the day. I knew the square and all its 
houses. I had to find a hiding-place. I walked 
in at night — and suddenly found myself in a nest 
of Boches. They did n’t see me, fortunately, and 
I escaped to the cellar. They were too drunk to 
recognize me. But it was n’t so easy to get out 
again. I hid there for three days and nights, 
and then found my way into the subcellar. 
After that I discovered the iron door. With my 
knife I pried open the lock, but it was slow work 
— and, see, I ruined my knife.” 

Ruefully gazing at the worn, broken blade of 


80 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


his knife, he held it up for their examination. 
Spell-bound by the recital of hairbreadth escapes 
and the remarkable coincidence that had brought 
them to the cellar where he was hiding, the boys 
sat in silence a moment, hoping he would con- 
tinue. They sighed when he lapsed into silence. 

^‘What news do you bring from the front, 
Jean?’’ Guy asked finally. ‘Ts the Belgian army 
all cut to pieces?” 

^^No, no, they ’re stronger than ever. The 
king and queen are with them, and they will fight 
to the last. They will never surrender. Noth- 
ing can demoralize them. Vive la Belgique!'* 
^^The Germans have spread stories in Brussels 
that they wanted to surrender, but the British 
wouldn’t let them. It’s always the English!” 
Egmont spoke bitterly. “But I did n’t believe it. 
I knew it was a German lie! ” 

“Surrender! Piff! They ’ll never surrender. 
And now the Americans are coming — coming like 
flies — millions of them!” 

“Have you seen them — the American sol- 
diers?” interrupted Bob, eagerly. “You know I 


NEWS FROM THE FRONT 


81 


am an American — my father was an American, 
and I was born in America.” 

^^Yes, I have seen them, the Americans, fine, 
big, husky boys, and so kind and thoughtful! 
They will drive the Boches across the Rhine. 
Their coming has cheered us. It is big news I 
bring home. You must tell the people to have 
heart, and wait a little longer.” 

^‘We Ve done that already — spread the news 
from Liege to Antwerp, and from Brussels to 
Bruges,” replied Bob, smiling. 

Jean looked stupidly at him, puzzled and curi- 
ous. 

^‘Jean hasn’t heard of the Vigilantes, Bob,” 
laughed Egmont. ‘‘Tell him.” 

It was the soldier’s turn to listen with bated 
breath and flushed cheeks as Bob related briefly 
the work of the organization the boys had formed, 
outlining their purpose and the spread of the 
idea all over Belgium. When he was through, 
Jean extended his hands in expression of his 
emotion. 

“Now I know the spirit of Belgium will never 


82 THE BOY Vigilantes of Belgium 


be crushed!’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘The boys of Bel- 
gium! What is it you call yourself — Vigilantes 1 
Ah ! what a fine name ! The king must know of 
them. I shall have the pleasure of telling him 
and our dear queen when I go back.” 

“When are you going back, Jean?” asked Guy 
anxiously. “Do you think you can get through 
the German lines?” 

“Like a knife going through cheese. They 
can’t catch Jean de Chokier. But when do I go? 
After I have seen my dear sister. I must em- 
brace her first. I ’ve come all the way to gaze 
into her fine eyes and to kiss her rosy cheeks. I 
must go to her soon.” 

He rose suddenly from his seat and began pac- 
ing the dry floor of the sewer. 

“Perhaps it will be safer to bring Charlotte 
here, Jean,” Bob suggested. “We could smug- 
gle her down here easily, dressed up as a boy. 
She does n’t go out much now. It is n’t safe, 
you know.” 

Jean stopped and gazed inquiringly at Bob, 
who flushed, and then added : 

“Charlotte ’s grown a good deal since you saw 


NEWS FROM THE FRONT 


83 


her, Jean. She a mighty pretty girl now, and 
big for her age. The German officers like pretty 
faces, and most of the girls over fourteen have 
been taken into Germany.’’ 

Something like an oath escaped the soldier’s 
lips, and with clenched hands and blazing eyes 
he stamped his foot. ‘‘The Boches! The 
Huns ! If they dare lay hands on my sister 1 ” 

His sudden anger was natural, but after it had 
expended itself, he grew calmer and more reason- 
able. He knew how futile his defiance of the 
invaders would prove in a test. What could he 
do alone against a host of Germans in defending 
Charlotte ? 

He began pacing the floor again in agitated 
strides. Bob had n’t exaggerated the danger 
threatening Charlotte, for they knew from her 
own lips that she had kept herself secluded in 
her home for fear of insults on the street from 
the German officers. And all the time, hanging 
over her head like a nightmare, was the terrible 
fear that she might be seized any day and carried 
off to Germany as many other girls and young 
women had been. 


84 > THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

Jean was thinking deeply, planning in his 
own mind how to help his sister, although out- 
wardly he appeared as belligerent and defiant as 
ever. The boys watched him in silence, sympa- 
thizing with him. Finally, he stopped in front 
of them. 

‘‘There ’s only one thing to do,’’ he announced 
in a quiet voice. “CharloL^ must go back with 
me.” 

Every one looked up with startled eyes. 

“She ’d never get across Belgium with you, 
Jean,” replied Egmont, shaking his head. 
“You might do it alone, but not with Charlotte. 
She ’d attract too much attention.” 

“You just said you ’d dress her up as a boy 
and bring her to see me,” was the smiling retort. 
“Then why as a boy can she not go with me?” 

Bob shook his head. 

“Even as a boy she wouldn’t be safe, Jean. 
She ’s taller than Egmont.” 

“Eh! Well, what of that?” 

“Don’t you know the Germans are deporting 
all boys big enough to work in the mines and 


NEWS FROM THE FRONT 85 

factories? Charlotte would be seized if seen. 
Egmont and I don’t feel any too safe. They 
may take us before long. We ’ve been consider- 
ing how we could escape before it ’s too late. 
We ’re going to send the word out to the Vigi- 
lantes to advise all the older boys to leave the 
country — not together, but singly. Some may 
escape and join King Albert’s army.” 

‘Tt is a fine plan!” exclaimed Jean. “They 
will make good soldiers, these Vigilantes. Yes, 
yes, tell them to get out of Belgium. I myself 
will help them.” 

In his enthusiasm at the idea he forgot Char- 
lotte, and was reminded of it only when Bob 
added : 

“So you see, Jean, it wouldn’t be safe to at- 
tempt to^ smuggle Charlotte out of Belgium 
dressed as a boy.” 

Jean frowned in perplexity, and once more be- 
gan his restless pacing to and fro. But gradu- 
ally his face cleared, and a crafty smile succeeded 
the lines of depression. 

“It is the old women that the Boches don’t 


86 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


disturb/’ he remarked suddenly, stopping again. 
^‘They don’t want them — the women too old to 
work. Is that not so?” 

The boys nodded. The old men and women 
were safer than even the small boys and girls, 
for their days of usefulness had gone, and the 
Germans could not use them now or in the future. 

‘‘Then,” added Jean, swelling out his chest, 
“Charlotte shall be an old woman, and I shall go 
as her husband, the old man who cannot walk 
straight. See, I show you.” 

Crooking his back and bending forward like 
an old man scarcely able to walk, he crossed the 
narrow space in perfect imitation of the aged. 
“I shall carry a stick to lean on,” he went on 
gleefully, “and a bundle of old rags. And 
Charlotte shall cling to me like a woman who ’s 
partly paralyzed. She ’s a fine actress, my sister. 
Remember, Egmont, when she played the part of 
an old woman at the KirmessC dance? Ah! she 
will know how to do it.” 

His suggestive words and actions amused 
them. They caught his idea at once. With 
himself and Charlotte disguised as an old couple, 


NEWS FROM THE FRONT 


87 


they could cross Belgium without danger unless 
some over-inquisitive German discovered their 
deception. 

‘T believe you could do it!’^ exclaimed Bob, 
finally, clapping his hands softly. ‘‘Yes, Char- 
lotte could play the part of an old woman to per- 
fection. But she ’d have to cut off her beautiful 
long hair.” 

The girl had an abundance of long silky black 
hair that fell below her waist, and Bob was think- 
ing of how it would hurt to sacrifice such a lovely 
possession: but the loss of it would be nothing 
to the heart-rending sorrows that would befall 
her if she were deported to Germany. 

“Yes,” nodded Jean, “the hair would have to 
come off, but Charlotte would agree to it. She M 
have to. It ’s her only chance of getting across 
Belgium.” 

Jean’s proposition seemed more reasonable the 
longer they dwelt upon it. Guy and Egmont 
were a little doubtful at first, but Bob’s ready 
acceptance of the plan convinced them. 

“Charlotte can make herself up at home and 
come here in disguise as an old woman,” Guy 


88 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

said. ‘‘She ’ll need paint and false hair and a 
lot of things.” 

“And her grandmother’s old dresses,” added 
Egmont. “She can make the transformation be- 
fore she leaves home.” 

“And I ’ll wear some of grandfather’s old 
clothes,” broke in Jean. “How am I to get 
them?” 

“We ’ll bring them to you,” replied Egmont. 

“No, I ’ll go home and get them,” was the 
short answer. 

“It would n’t be safe, Jean,” interrupted Guy. 
“In that uniform you ’d be arrested or shot on 
sight.” 

“I crossed Belgium in it,” stoutly proclaimed 
the soldier, swelling out his chest in pride. 

“Yes, but Brussels is different. The soldiers 
are on guard at every corner. They ’d challenge 
you every few yards.” 

“I ’m used to that,” Jean added stubbornly. 
“I ’m not afraid of their challenges.” 

It required considerable persuasion from all 
three to convince him finally that in the interest 
of his own safety and Charlotte’s he should re- 


NEWS FROM THE FRONT 


89 


main in the sewer until the boys smuggled old 
clothes to him. Then dressed up as an old, de- 
crepit man he might venture forth after dark 
without fear of capture. 

He yielded after a while, promising to keep 
under cover until after dark. The boys were to 
return early in the evening, each bringing some 
particular garment to make up his complete out- 
fit. As it always aroused suspicion to be seen 
carrying a bundle on the streets of Brussels, they 
decided to divide the articles between them, as 
they could readily conceal them under their 
jackets. 

After a few more preliminary discussions of 
the scheme, they dispersed. Bob leaving the 
sewer by way of the south canal as he had en- 
tered, and Egmont and Guy retracing their 
steps north and east to reach the streets some dis- 
tance apart. By such unusual precaution they 
never gave the sentries a chance to suspect they 
had a common meeting-place under the very city 
itself. 

Bob, having started first, reached the home of 
the Chokiers ahead of his companions. When 


90 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


he was admitted, he asked for Charlotte, and was 
conducted into an upper room where a few mo- 
ments later the girl appeared. 

Bob’s first glimpse of her startled him. The 
face was pale and drawn, and the eyes full of 
fear and nervousness. She came toward him 
with a sigh of relief. did n’t know who it 
was. Bob,” she murmured in a trembling voice. 
“I was afraid — afraid of — ” 

“What were you afraid of, Charlotte?” he 
asked, noticing her agitation. 

She was a tall, queenly looking girl, well de- 
veloped, and with deep, liquid eyes, which just 
now were so startled they seemed to burn with 
wonderful brilliance. 

“The German officers. Bob,” she whispered. 
“I was stopped by one on the street, and — and — 
Oh, I got away from him and ran home! I 
think — I think — it isn’t safe for me to go out 
any more. They may take me to Germany. Do 
you think there ’s any danger of it?” 

The wistful, appealing eyes made him wince. 
He understood in an instant the cause of her dis- 
tress. The terrible fate that had come to so many 


NEWS FROM THE FRONT 91 

of Belgium’s fairest daughters hung over her 
head like a horrible nightmare. The very 
thought of being deported to Germany was 
enough to drive a high-strung girl like Charlotte 
insane. His heart bled for her. 

Then his mission to the house occurred to him, 
and with it came a great relief. The good news 
he brought about her brother would put new 
heart in her and banish the fear from her eyes. 

^^No, Charlotte, there is no danger,” he re- 
plied, smiling encouragingly into her face. ^^No 
danger whatever.” 

“You think so? Why do you say that?” 

“Because, Charlotte, I Ve got good news for 
you — splendid news. When you hear it 
you ’ll—” 

“What is it?” she interrupted. “Tell me 
quick!” 

“No, not until Egmont and Guy come,” he re- 
plied. “It isn’t fair to be selfish and tell you 
before they arrive. But you won’t have to wait 
long. I hear them now. Yes, that ’s Egmont’s 
voice — and Guy’s. I beat them only by half a 
minute. I knew they would hurry.” 


CHAPTER VII 


charlotte’s danger 

T he unexpected appearance of Guy and Eg- 
mont so shortly after Bob’s arrival, spe- 
cially in view of the latter’s remarks, piqued Char- 
lotte’s curiosity, and at the same time aroused her 
mind to great expectations. For a few moments 
she forgot the subject that was troubling her, as 
she turned to the boys with a smiling face and 
laughing eyes. 

‘^What ’s the meaning of all this? It must be 
some great secret or a pleasant surprise.” 

‘Tt is,” replied Bob. “Ask Guy or Egmont.” 
“Well, I ’m waiting,” said Charlotte. “Why 
don’t you tell me?” 

“If Bob has n’t already told you,” interrupted 
Egmont, “he deserves a medal. I ’m sure I 
could n’t have kept the news from you a minute.” 

“I wanted you and Guy to be present,” replied 
Bob. “It ’s too good for one to enjoy alone.” 

92 


CHARLOTTE’S DANGER 


93 


‘‘Is this a species of torture you ’re putting me 
to?” inquired Charlotte. “If it is please go on 
with it. I quite enjoy it. No, I’m not a bit 
curious. In fact, I begin to believe there ’s no 
secret, or any good news. I don’t believe any 
good news will ever come to Belgium again.” 
The last sentence contained a note of sorrow that 
made the boys instantly serious. Bob spoke for 
the others. 

“We ’re in earnest, Charlotte,” he said. “We 
have good news for you. Now what is your 
greatest wish in life?” 

“That Germany shall be whipped and driven 
out of Belgium ! ” came the quick, sharp retort, ac- 
companied by flashing eyes and clenching of 
small hands. 

“Yes, of course,” stammered Bob. “That ’s 
the wish of all of us. But I mean a personal 
wish. What wish would make you the most 
happy?” 

Charlotte frowned and knit her forehead. 
Once more she was thinking of her danger, and 
Bob seemed to read her thoughts. “Is n’t there 
somebody above all others you would like to see?” 


94* THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

he added, hoping to direct her mind in the right 
channel. 

‘‘Why,’’ — she began, and then stopped. She 
glanced from one boy to the other, her eyes dilat- 
ing, her hands trembling in agitation. “You — 
you haven’t heard from Jean, have you?” she 
added a moment later in a voice that shook. 

“Yes,” they answered in unison. 

The girl sprang toward them. 

“Is he alive?” she demanded quickly. “Is he 
safe? Where is he?” 

“He ’s alive, Charlotte,” replied Egmont, “and 
safe. And he ’s here — in Brussels! ” 

“Alive — safe — and here in Brussels ! ” the girl 
repeated, as if unable to believe the news. 

“Yes, we left him half an hour ago,” continued 
Egmont. “He sent his love to you. He ’s anx- 
ious to greet you, and — ” 

“Where is he?” she interrupted impetuously. 
“Take me to him 1 I must see him at once — dear 
Jean! Oh, this is good news — ^better than I ever 
dreamed. I will go to him at once.” 

“Not just now, and as you are, Charlotte,” Bob 
explained. “It would be dangerous. You just 


CHARLOTTE’S DANGER 


95 


said the German officers had been bothering you 
again, and you had to run to escape them. If 
you went out after dark it would be extremely 
dangerous.” 

^^Yes, I know, but I must see my brother. I’ 11 
risk anything for that. He needs me as much as 
I do him. Oh, it ’s four long years since we 
parted ! I can’t wait another minute.” 

‘^Jean is coming here,” Guy interrupted. 
<^We ’re going to take your grandfather’s old 
clothes to him and dress him up as an old man. 
You must help us to select them. He said the 
older the clothes the better. It is n’t any safer 
for him to appear without a disguise than you.” 

^‘No, he mustn’t be caught!” she exclaimed. 
^^They ’d shoot him! He must be very careful. 
Do you think it ’s safe even if he ’s disguised?” 
she asked anxiously. 

“Jean crossed half of Belgium without a dis- 
guise,” replied Bob, “and I don’t think he ’ll get 
caught when he travels as an old man. I won- 
der,” he added, speaking slowly, and looking 
meaningly at the girl, “if you could n’t disguise 
yourself as an old woman and go back with him.” 


96 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

“Go back with Jean?” she asked, looking puz- 
zled. “Where is Jean going?” 

“Back to the army — back of the battle front, 
where you would be in no further danger of being 
deported to Germany. Once there you would be 
safe until the end of the war.” 

Charlotte gazed at him in silence, as if trying 
to grasp the purport of his words, and while her 
mind was still in a little daze Bob continued : 

“It ’s Jean’s suggestion. He does n’t want to 
leave you behind. He ’s afraid you might be 
taken by the Huns and sent to Germany. With 
you in disguise as an old woman, and he as an old 
man, he thinks there ’s a good chance for both of 
you to escape. Once beyond Ypres with the Bel- 
gian Army, you would be perfectly safe.” 

“Yes, I would be safe, and with Jean,” the girl 
replied slowly. “And I want to go, but dear 
grandmother and grandfather — what would they 
do without me? Would they let me go?” 

Neither of the boys had thought of this pos- 
sible obstacle to their plans, and they looked 
blankly at Charlotte, who in turn stared at them 
and then quietly dropped her eyes to the floor. 


CHARLOTTE’S DANGER 


97 


with a sigh, as if the question was too deep for 
her. 

But fortunately the awkward silence was 
broken by a slight movement behind them, and 
when they turned around they stood face to face 
with a little old lady dressed in a simple, but 
quaint, costume, with a beautiful piece of lace 
adorning her white hair. 

^‘My dears, I could n’t help overhearing you,” 
Madame de Chokier said, smiling at their looks 
of surprise. ‘T was taking my nap when you en- 
tered, and I could n’t leave without disturbing 
you. So I decided to sit still until you left.” 

^^Oh, Grandmother, then you heard the glorious 
news! ” exclaimed Charlotte, rushing forward and 
embracing her. ‘^Jean is alive and safe. He ’s 
in Brussels, and is coming home to us! ” 

‘‘Yes, dear, I heard all that, and also that he 
wanted to take you away from us,” was the smil- 
ing reply. 

“But I won’t go. Grandmother, not if you want 
me to stay. You heard me tell them that.” 

The old lady kissed each cheek of the speaker, 
and smiled bravely into her face. 


98 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

‘T heard everything, Charlotte,’’ she replied, 
holding the pretty face between her old hands. 
‘^And it made me happy to think my granddaugh- 
ter would sacrifice her happiness, and perhaps her 
life, for the sake of those who are too old to have 
much to live for. Your grandfather and I can 
afford to smile and be happy even in the face of 
the terrible trials of our beloved country when 
such grandchildren bless them. Ah, my dear, 
life is not hopeless ! I shall continue to bless the 
good God, and trust in him.” 

^‘1 won’t leave you. Grandmother,” Charlotte 
whispered. ’ll stay with you until this horri- 
ble war is over.” 

^‘No, my child, I could n’t permit that,” was the 
answer. is right. You should go with 

him. It is n’t safe for you to stay in Belgium any 
longer.” 

“But you and grandfather — ” 

“Will look after each other. We ’ve done it for 
fifty years, and it will be no novelty to us.” 

“But — ” began Charlotte again, and stopped 
before the shaking head of her grandparent. 

“We can listen to no protests, Charlotte. Your 


CHARLOTTE’S DANGER 


99 


grandfather, I know, will be just as positive, and 
will insist upon your going. Listen, child, I will 
whisper a secret in your ears. Night after night 
we have lain awake, dreading and fearing the ter- 
rible thing that we knew would visit our home in 
time. We Ve watched you grow, and each inch 
you Ve gained has stabbed us to the heart. We 
saw how beautiful you were becoming, and your 
beauty was a curse rather than a blessing to us. 
We cowed and shivered before the thought of your 
being seized and deported to G«rmany. It has 
been our nightmare — our burden, which we felt 
we could not bear — our secret, which we did not 
dare whisper to you. Oh, my dear Charlotte, 
don’t you see it ’s God’s helping hand ? He has 
sent Jean to take you away to a place of safety.” 

Charlotte and the boys stood in awed silence for 
a moment, for Madame de Chokier had spoken 
with deep emotion, her lips quivering, her moist 
eyes bright and sparkling. Charlotte embraced 
her again, and murmured : 

“I did n’t know you had worried about me. 
Grandmother. I thought you did n’t know.” 

’ve known everything, dear child, your fear 


100 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


of going on the street, and your nervous terror 
when they seized others. I saw your eyes when 
you came in a few minutes ago. I knew what 
had happened. Oh, Charlotte, I Ve suffered as 
Belgian mothers have suffered when they saw 
their children torn from their arms to serve that 
beast in Berlin ! May God punish him to the full 
for all his unspeakable crimes ! ” 

With tears in her own eyes, Charlotte took one 
o*f the shaking hands in both of hers and held it 
tenderly. 

’ll go with Jean, Grandmother,” she said 
gently. “Yes, you ’ll be happier with me gone. 
When the war ’s over I ’ll come back. Promise 
you and grandfather will keep up your courage 
and wait for me. Don’t let anything cause you 
to despair. I ’m coming back — coming back to 
make you happy again. Promise me ! ” 

“Yes, dear, I ’ll promise to wait patiently, and 
to pray for you every day. I shall have some- 
thing to live for, and that will keep me brave and 
trustful.” 

The boys had withdrawn to a corner of the 
room to leave the couple alone together, but 


CHARLOTTE’S DANGER 


101 


Madame de Chokier now turned to them. 
‘‘These are the young Knight Errants of Bel- 
gium,” she said, smiling through her tears. 
“Verily I believe the spirit of our boys is equal to 
that of their brave fathers. Belgium can never 
die so long as its sons have faith and courage.” 
She came toward them and extended both hands. 
Guy looked up and smiled. 

“You mean young Vigilantes and not Knight 
Errants,” he blurted out unthinkingly. 

“Vigilantes! I don’t know that name,” mur- 
mured Madame de Chokier, shaking her head. 
“What are they?” 

Bob and Egmont darted a glance at Guy that 
made him flush with embarrassment. They had 
purposely kept all knowledge of their society from 
the older people, for fear that if the German spies 
discovered anything, they might torture the par- 
ents and grandparents to exact confession from 
them, and then visit cruel punishment upon them 
for harboring traitors. A part of the boys’ creed 
had been to do nothing that would incriminate 
their elders, 

“Oh, that ’s a name of a society they have in 


102 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


America/’ Guy replied, hoping to divert her curi- 
osity. “Bob ’s been telling us about it. Some 
day he may tell you.” 

“Yes, some day he can tell me,” murmured 
Madame de Chokier, absently. “I shall be glad 
to hear anything he can tell me about that won- 
derful country. But just now we must think of 
other things. You wanted old clothes for Jean 
— something old and ragged? Well, we’ll go 
and search for them. I think I know where to 
find them. 

“And a wig if you have one — an old man’s 
wig,” said Egmont. 

“A wig for Jean! ” chuckled the little old lady. 
“I wonder what he will look like in one. Jean 
always was trying to disguise himself. He 
should have been an actor.” 

She led the way out of the room, and ascended 
the stairs to another floor above, the others follow- 
ing close behind her. When she came to the door 
of a room that was locked, she produced a key, 
and asked Charlotte to open it. It was close and 
musty inside, for the room was a narrow one, with 
only one small window opening into it. Madame 


CHARLOTTE’S DANGER 103 

de Chokier raised the curtain to admit the waning 
light of the departing day. 

“Open that trunk, Charlotte,” she said, indi- 
cating an old wooden chest with her cane. “It ’s 
filled with clothes that I never expected to use 
again — and wigs too.” 

The girl obeyed, and when the lid was raised, 
a queer collection of old clothes and fancy dresses 
was revealed. Some were made of fine silks and 
linen, with elaborate lace and embroidery, and 
others of cheap cotton and wool, with no pretense 
whatever to ornament or decoration. Indeed, 
some of the latter seemed almost ready to fall to 
pieces when Charlotte lifted them out, so old and 
ragged were they. 

“Take the poorest of them,” Madame de Cho- 
kier said, chuckling. “The poorer one dresses, 
the less interest the Germans take in the wearer! ” 

“Where did you get such quaint old clothes. 
Grandmother?” asked Charlotte. “And why are 
you keeping them stored up here?” 

“They belonged to your grandfather and me 
when we were first married, dear,” was the reply. 
“We were poor then — very poor — almost as poor 


104 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


as we are now that the Germans have taken every- 
thing from us. They did n’t want these. They 
looked at them and told me I could keep them. 
They despised our very wedding clothes. Well, 
they may be rags, but they ’re precious to us.” 

She lifted one of the dresses from the trunk and 
held it up for them to see. It was a cheap peas- 
ant dress that brought smiles to their faces. 

“That ’s for Charlotte,” she said. “I never 
thought she ’d ever wear it, but the world is turned 
upside down, and princesses dress in rags and 
great men in paupers’ clothes. Try it on, dear, 
and see if it fits.” She dug deep into the mass of 
clothing again and brought forth a peasant’s suit 
for a man. “Your grandfather’s, dear, when he 
was younger than he is now,” she added. “It 
ought to fit Jean.” 

The odd clothes she fished out of the trunk ex- 
cited no end of merriment, and before she reached 
the bottom they were laughing and talking as if 
they were preparing for a masquerade instead of 
a serious adventure. 

Madame de Chokier brought out last a collec- 
tion of wigs and false mustaches and beards. 


CHARLOTTE’S DANGER 


105 


‘‘These,” she said, “Charles wore at our first mas- 
querade. They ’re a little old and moth-eaten, 
but we can fix them up for Jean. He can take 
his choice of them. He ’ll know best which ones 
to use. Who will carry these to him?” 

“I will ! ” exclaimed Guy, seizing them and ad- 
justing one after another to his face and head. 

“Then, Egmont, you can take the coat,” she 
added, handing him that article of dress. “And 
you. Bob, can carry the trousers. The rest you 
will have to divide among you as best you can.” 

They selected a complete wardrobe for Jean, 
and began concealing them about their persons so 
as not to excite suspicion on the street. Charlotte 
was so busy studying out her own wardrobe that 
she ignored them. Bob finally announced he was 
ready. 

“It ’s dark now, and we must get back to the 
sewer,” he said. 

“The sewer!” exclaimed Charlotte, raising her 
head. 

“Yes,” was the smiling retort. “That ’s where 
we left Jean. But,” he added, when he saw the 
girl shudder, “it ’s a dry sewer, an old abandoned 


106 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


one, and quite comfortable for a hiding-place. 
And it ’s big enough for Jean to dress in. We ’ll 
have him here within an hour, for he ’s crazy to 
get home to see you.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


CHARLOTTE AND JEAN ESCAPE 

I T was dark when the boys emerged from the 
house, and skulked along the street, fearful of 
attracting attention to the small bundles they con- 
cealed under their coats. As on all occasions, 
they left the house singly and not together, taking 
different directions to throw any spy, who might 
be watching them, off the trail. 

They met in their old rendezvous twenty min- 
utes later, where they found Jean impatiently 
waiting for them. He seized the different articles 
of clothing, and quickly discarded his battered 
uniform. By the flickering light of the candles, 
he made a remarkable transformation in his ap- 
pearance. 

^Tardon, messieurs, a bite of food for a poor 
old man,” he said, hobbling up to them in his new 

disguise, with one hand extended. 

107 


108 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


The imitation was so perfect they suppressed 
their shouts of approval by smothering their lips 
with both hands. 

“You’ll do, Jean!” whispered Bob. “No 
Boche will guess you ’re anything but an old beg- 
gar.” 

“Then I must be off. I want to see Charlotte 
and the grandparents.” 

They led the way to the nearest exit, and told 
him the street the canal crossed. Then they sep- 
arated and made their way back to the home of 
the Chokiers by devious routes. 

Jean, in his eagerness, reached the house first, 
but Bob was only half a minute behind him. He 
entered the house just as brother and sister met. 
Charlotte stood a moment in dubious amazement 
until Jean, with a glad little laugh, threw off his 
wig and rushed toward her. 

“Charlotte, ma chhre sosur!^^ he cried, fling- 
ing his arms about her in an affectionate embrace. 

“Oh, Jean, I did n’t know you at first! ” she re- 
plied, laughing and crying in the same breath. 
“I thought maybe you were a German spy. You 
can never tell, you know. They ’re everywhere.” 


CHARLOTTE AND JEAN ESCAPE 109 


‘‘Yes, and we can’t be too careful. But how 
are the grandparents?” 

“They ’re here to speak for themselves,” re- 
plied Charlotte, as Madame de Chokier and her 
husband entered the room. 

Bob retreated and made his way to the stair- 
way to let Guy and Egmont in. The greeting of 
the united family greatly affected him, and for a 
moment he felt a terrible loneliness in his own 
heart. It was four years since he had seen his 
own mother, and a« great yearning to gaze into her 
eyes and face brought the tears to his eyes. 

“Dear mother, she must be worrying about me,” 
he said. “I wish I could see her right away.” 

The entrance of Guy and Egmont dispelled all 
homesickness from his mind. “Is Jean here?” 
they first asked. 

“Yes,” nodded Bob. “He ’s with Charlotte 
and his grandparents. Better wait here until 
they ’ve had time to talk over family affairs.” 

They waited below until a head protruded over 
the railing above, and Charlotte called to them. 
“Are you planning more mysteries down there?” 
she asked mockingly. “I believe you ’re always 


110 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


thinking up some schemes. If you can spare the 
time you might come up and help me prepare my 
disguise.’’ 

Charlotte was already dressed in her simple 
peasant’s gown of antique date, with a wig of 
dirty white hair covering her head. She bobbed 
her body up and down in mock courtesy. 

“How do you like it?” she asked, smiling. 

Bob shook his head sadly. 

“Your face gives you away, Charlotte. In 
spite of the wig you look young and pretty.” 

“Thanks for the compliment, Bob, but I really 
feel as old as the dress.” 

“You ’ll have to cut off your hair, Charlotte,” 
said Guy. “It gives you away in spite of the 
wig.” 

“Must I?” she asked in dismay. 

“Yes, dear,” chimed in Jean, “but it will grow 
again. It ’s beautiful hair,” he added, kissing 
it, “but it must come off.” 

“Then I ’ll cut it at once.” She seized a pair 
of scissors and snipped at the long tresses until 
they lay in a dark glistening heap on thd floor. A 
glance at herself in the mirror almost frightened 


CHARLOTTE AND JEAN ESCAPE 111 


her, and to conceal the reflection from her eyes she 
clapped on the wig. The others looked critically 
at her. 

Bob was still dissatisfied. 

^‘The face must be changed/’ he said. 

^‘Sure!” exclaimed Jean. ^Tt is too pretty. 
Here, let me show you.” He showed himself to 
be a past master in making up for theatricals. 
With some burnt cork he changed the soft white 
complexion to a dirty yellow and brown, and then 
with some grease and paints began tracing lines 
of wrinkles in the cheeks, around the mouth and 
under the eyes. The others watched him in silent 
amazement. When he had finished, they clapped 
their hands with approval. 

Charlotte was no longer the beautiful girl they 
had been accustomed to see, but an old, wrinkled 
woman, with white hair straggling over her fore- 
head and face. In her peasant’s garb she was a 
perfect make-up. 

^‘There! Who would know my beautiful sis- 
ter!” exclaimed Jean, in triumph. ^‘No, she is 
my wife — ^my old woman.” 

He began applying the burnt cork and paints 


112 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


to his own face until his whole expression was 
changed. Then hobbling across the floor by her 
side, leaning heavily on his cane, he made her 
imitate the character she represented. The re- 
hearsal was continued for some time amidst many 
critical remarks and shouts of laughter. 

^'Now we ’re ready to sally forth,” Jean added. 
‘We must get out of Brussels before daylight. 
Once in the country we can hide in the day and 
travel after dark.” 

When they came to the moment of departure 
every one was serious, for the adventure the young 
couple were embarking upon contained many dan- 
gers and risks, and Madame de Chokier and her 
husband were not deceived. Even if Charlotte 
and Jean escaped the Germans, it might be a long 
time before the family would be reunited again. 
Not until after the war could they hope to return 
to Belgium. 

But the adventure had not been hastily planned 
or lightly conceived. It was the only thing to do, 
and the old couple retained their calm self-pos- 
session admirably. They kissed the two repeat- 


CHARLOTTE AND JEAN ESCAPE 113 

edly, and then bade them God-speed on their jour- 
ney. 

They left the house together, the boys station- 
ing themselves in front to see if the street was de- 
serted. Then, with a final whispered adieu they 
vanished in the darkness. 

“I hope they ’ll get out of Brussels before morn- 
ing,” Bob said. ^Tf they do, Jean can manage 
the rest.” 

^Tt will be lonely without Charlotte,” remarked 
Egmont. almost wish I was going with them.” 

^Tt will be lonelier for their grandparents,” 
chimed in Guy. ^‘We must do everything to con- 
sole them.” 

^‘Yes,” admitted Bob, ‘^until they get used to 
it they will be terribly lonely.” 

Instead of leaving for their homes at once, they 
returned to the house. Madame de Chokier re- 
ceived them as calmly as if nothing had occurred 
to break the serenity of the family life. 

^^We must place our trust in the good God,” she 
said reverently. ‘T believe He will watch over 
them, my poor little lambs! ” 


114 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


The boys remained for several hours, hoping to 
make up for the loss the old couple had sustained 
by talking of ordinary events in the city. It was 
growing well toward midnight when they decided 
to leave. “They should be out of Brussels by 
this time,’’ Bob remarked. “They ’ve had time 
enough.” 

“Yes, thank God, they’ve gone!” murmured 
their hostess. “I shall always be glad I sent them 
before it was too late. It nearly wrenched my 
heart to let them go, and they will never know the 
loneliness of a poor old woman — ” 

She stopped in the midst of her sentence, for a 
loud knocking and clattering on the street door 
echoed through the spacious rooms and halls. 

“What is that?” whispered Guy. 

“Some one demanding admission,” murmured 
Madame de Chokier. Then turning to her hus- 
band, she added: “Charles, wilVyou see who 
our late visitor is? By his clamoring he seems 
very impatient.” 

One thought gripped the hearts of every one, 
and made them tremble. Had something hap- 
pened to Jean and Charlotte? Had they been 


CHARLOTTE AND JEAN ESCAPE 115 


caught and brought back? Even Monsieur and 
Madame de Chokier could not suppress their fear, 
and together they descended the stairway and 
moved toward the door on which the violent rap- 
ping was still ^eing made. The boys did not 
linger in the background, but accompanied them. 

When Monsieur de Chokier opened the door, 
three figures entered abruptly, pushing their way 
in and giving the door a kick with their feet. 
The foremost was a Prussian officer, arrogant and 
impudent; the second, an armed soldier; and the 
third, a German in civilian dress. Before this 
array of German authority, the old couple and 
their three guests retreated a few steps in evident 
dismay. 

The Prussian officer surveyed them coolly, and 
then the hall and broad stairway. Without a 
word to them, as if they were beneath him and 
unworthy of noticing, he turned to his two com- 
panions. 

“Search the house he ordered. “IT wait 
for you here.” 

The soldier and civilian obeyed with alacrity, 
springing up the stairs with quick, eager steps. 


116 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

while the officer bestrode a chair, and gazed 
calmly at nothing. After a while he lighted a 
cigarette, and blew clouds of smoke in the air. 
Monsieur de Chokier was the first to break the 
silence. With calm dignity, he asked: 

“Why is my house invaded at this late hour? 
I do not understand it.’^ 

“Monsieur will know in time,” was the curt re- 
ply. “For the present do not disturb me with 
questions.” 

He returned to his smoking, enjoying their con- 
sternation as much as he did the curling wreaths 
of smoke puffed from his lips. Silence under 
such circumstances was really a more terrifying 
species of torment than open accusations, and the 
officer appeared greatly amused by the mystery 
his entrance had created. 

“Be seated, Charles,” Madame de Chokier said 
calmly, taking a chair for herself, “and make 
yourself comfortable. It may be a long wait.” 

The officer cast her an angry look, and seemed 
on the point of resenting her remark, but when 
they drew chairs together and quietly took them. 


CHARLOTTE AND JEAN ESCAPE 117 


side by side, he changed his mind. The boyb had 
retreated as far across the hall as possible, and 
stood in a row against the opposite wall. The 
officer gave them a haughty look, and smiled. 

^'How old are you?” he asked, indicating Bob 
with a wave of the hand. 

‘^Thirteen,” came the quiet response. 

^^Every Belgian boy lies about his age!” was 
the cool retort. ‘^They ^re never over thirteen un- 
til they ’re twenty.” 

An angry flush came into Bob’s cheeks, but he 
was not allowed to retort. The two searchers 
were heard coming down the broad stairway. 
When they appeared, the Prussian officer rose 
quickly from his seat, and snapped out : 

^‘Where is she? Why did n’t you bring her?” 

^‘She ’s not in the house,” replied the one in 
civilian dress. ^We ’ve searched every part of 
it.” 

An exclamation of anger escaped the lips of 
the officer, and in forcible German he began be- 
rating the man for his stupidity. From his re- 
marks, the boys gathered that he was a German 


118 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


spy attached to the intelligence department, and 
that he had, under instructions from higher au- 
thorities, been watching the house. 

‘^Stupid pig!’^ the Prussian ended in disgust. 
^^Either you let her escape under your eyes or 
she ’s hiding in the house. I will try my hand at 
searching. You will stay here.’’ 

He strode up the stairway and disappeared 
from view. The soldier stationed himself near 
the doorway in the attitude of a wooden sentry, 
who knew nothing more than that he had to guard 
the door and keep any one from going in or out 
except over his dead body. The other took the 
chair vacated by his superior, and calmly waited 
results. 

The officer was gone a long time. They could 
hear him thumping and pounding the walls above, 
throwing contents of closets out on the floor, 
smashing trunks and boxes, and wrecking any 
place that could conceal a person. It was nearly 
half an hour before he returned, his face flushed 
with anger and disappointment. He strode up to 
the aged couple. 

‘‘Where have you hidden this girl of yours — 


CHARLOTTE AND JEAN ESCAPE 119 


daughter or granddaughter? Speak the truth 

Madame de Chokier smiled cheerfully. 

“We have not hidden her/’ she replied truth- 
fully. “She ’s not in the house. If you had 
asked me before I could have saved you all this 
search.” 

“Not in the house!” shouted the Prussian. 
“Then where is she? Tell me the truth or in 
prison you ’ll go! ” 

“She ’s gone hours ago.” 

“Where?” 

“Out of Brussels. I could not say where. I 
could not find her if I wanted to.” 

“You lie ! ” was the impudent retort. “You ’re 
concealing her.” 

“If that is so, find her,” was the smiling reply. 

The officer ground his teeth in rage, and turned 
to Monsieur de Chokier. “I ’ll give you a chance 
to tell the truth,” he added. “If you lie to me 
you ’ll go to prison.” 

“There is nothing to lie about,” replied Char- 
lotte’s grandfather with quiet dignity. “My 
granddaughter left this house hours ago. By this 
time she should be out of the city.” 


ISO THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

The officer raised a hand as if to strike the 
speaker, and then reconsidered his act. 

‘^When will she return?’^ he asked, changing his 
tactics. 

could not say just when, but the very day 
the Germans leave Belgium she ’ll return to her 
home.” 

“Then she ’ll never come back,” mocked the 
man, laughing. 

“I disagree with you there. Monsieur. The 
day may be long, but it will come.” 

The reply increased the officer’s anger, but in- 
stead of retorting, he wheeled and faced the boys. 
A crafty smile came to his lips. He stared at each 
in turn, vainly trying to intimidate them with a 
look. Having, from his point of view, properly 
frightened them, he said in a slow drawl : 

“Will you tell me the truth or must I arrest 
you and force it from you? Where is the pretty 
young granddaughter of this old couple?” He 
glanced first at Bob, who shook his head, and 
murmured : 

“I do not know.” 

Shrugging his shoulders, the man turned next 


CHARLOTTE AND JEAN ESCAPE 121 


to Egmont, who repeated Bob’s words. Guy had 
the last chance, and proved no more tractable than 
the others. The officer shrugged his shoulders. 

^‘Arrest them!” he said, addressing the soldier 
at the door. “Take them along with us.” 

“And you,” he added sneeringly to the one 
dressed in civilian clothes, “watch the house on 
the outside, and don’t go to sleep again. I ’ll 
hold you responsible.” 

The sentry at the door advanced with fixed 
bayonet, and ordered the boys to precede him. 
Madame de Chokier half rose to protest, but Bob 
shook his head at her meaningly, and she dropped 
back with a sigh. 


CHAPTER IX 


BOB ARRESTED AS A SPY 

HEIR sudden arrest came so unexpectedly 



JL that neither one of the young prisoners was 
able to take in its full significance until they had 
been hustled from the house at the point of the 
soldier’s bayonet. The officer who had given the 
order strode triumphantly along in their rear. 

Once out in the clear night air, with the streets 
darkened, and a distant clock ringing the hour of 
midnight, the boys partly recovered from their 
stupor, and began to wonder what would be done 
to them. Their arrest, so far as they had been 
informed, was for the distinct purpose of trying to 
force from them some information concerning 
Charlotte; but from past experiences of the in- 
habitants they knew that one might be arrested 
on one charge and have to face another entirely 
different when finally brought to trial. 


122 


BOB ARRESTED AS A SPY 


123 


Then, too, there was the danger of being thrown 
into a military prison, and held indefinitely before 
being tried. It was a common practice. Per- 
sonal grudges of individual officers against un- 
offending citizens had been satisfied in this way. 
Final acquittal of any crime did not repay one for 
the sufferings and tortures of long confinement. 

Naturally, after they had somewhat recovered 
from their surprise and stupefaction, the thought 
of breaking away from their guard and escaping 
occurred simultaneously to each one of the boys. 
It would not be so difficult in the darkness. They 
could make a break and scatter in every direction. 

The soldier, of course, would shoot at them, 
but his chances of hitting one was very slim. 
Bob, as if thinking of such a scheme, turned and 
glanced in the direction of the officer. The latter 
was smiling grimly, a hand on his pistol holster. 

It flashed across Bob’s mind that this was just 
what the man wanted the boys to do — attempt to 
break away from their guard and make a dash for 
liberty. It would be great sport for him to shoot 
at the scurrying boys. As an officer he would be 
a much better shot than the stupid sentry, and per- 


IM THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


haps would disable or kill one or more of them. 

Resisting arrest, or breaking away from a guard 
when under escort, was a crime which would jus- 
tify the Prussian in shooting to kill. With no 
definite charges against them, they would be in- 
viting disaster to resist. Bob nudged Egmont, 
and murmured : 

‘‘No, don’t try to get away. Come along 
quietly.” 

“We could do it,” whispered Guy. “That stu- 
pid soldier can’t shoot straight.” 

“No, but the officer ’s watching us, and he ’s 
got his pistol ready.” 

They walked along quietly and meekly after 
that until they came to a deserted square. No 
citizens were allowed out at such an hour of the 
night, and with the exception of a pacing sentry 
at regular intervals, the place was deadly quiet 
and lonely. Their chances of breaking away 
from their guard had disappeared the moment 
they reached the square, for there was much bet- 
ter light here and a sentry was stationed on every 
corner. The officer gave the word to halt, and 
while the guard stood with fixed bayonet, he ap- 


BOB ARRESTED AS A SPY 125 

preached the boys and surveyed them with smiling 
eyes. 

‘‘You want to spend the night in the guard- 
house?^’ he queried, folding his arms. “It is a 
pleasant place for boys. Keeps them out of mis- 
chief. You ’ll get bread and water for breakfast, 
and then the commandant will have you up, and 
if he says so, you go to prison — or to Germany.” 

They mutely watched him and waited for him 
to proceed. Taking their silence for fear, he 
continued : 

“We need boys like you to work in Germany. 
We pay good wages and give you plenty to eat. 
The girls, too, they have fine homes and beautiful 
clothes. This cousin of yours — or is it a sister?” 

Bob shook his head. 

“Neither,” he replied. “I have no sister or 
cousin, except Egmont here.” 

“Then she is your sister or cousin,” the officer 
added, addressing Guy, who shook his head, and 
responded with a brief negative. The Prussian 
meditated in silence, glancing sharply from one 
to the other as if debating in his mind how truth- 
ful his young prisoners were. 


ue THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


‘‘Then if she ’s neither cousin nor sister to any 
of you/^ he added after a pause, smiling in a 
friendly way, “you may tell me where she ^s hid- 
ing. I shall have a good reward for you. Let 
me see what I can promise. Oh, it shall be that 
you will not have to go to work in Germany. I 
shall speak to the commandant.” 

There was inviting suggestiveness in the voice 
and manner, very different from his former bully- 
ing ; but even had the boys any desire to save their 
skins at the expense of Charlotte^s safety, they 
would not have been deceived. Belgium had had 
too many lessons of treachery to trust any one of 
its invaders no matter in what flattering words a 
promise of immunity was presented. They shook 
their heads slowly, almost in unison, as if ani- 
mated by the same thought. “We don’t know 
where she is,” Bob spoke. “Not to save our lives 
could we tell you.” 

“Impossible!” snapped the officer. “Slie was 
in that house to-night. I myself saw her run in 
it. Then how did she get out of it?” 

“Walked out,” replied Bob, calmly. “I saw 
her go myself.” 


BOB ARRESTED AS A SPY 127 

^ Where is she hiding then?” was the next ques- 
tion. 

don^t know where she is now,” was the truth- 
ful retort. '^She left Brussels, or hoped to before 
morning. That ’s all I know about her hiding- 
place.” 

The officer muttered a growl of disappointment, 
and once more turned to his old bullying, threat- 
ening manners. 

^Tf you Ye lying to me,” he began, ’ll have 
you sent to Germany. You Ye old enough to 
work,” he added, staring at Bob. ^‘Yes, you Ye 
over fourteen.” 

^‘No, thirteen!” 

^^That is for the commandant to say,” was the 
sneering reply. shall put you down as four- 
teen. What is your name?” 

He whipped out a note book, and under the 
nearest lamp began writing a description of Bob. 

^^Your name?” he snapped out again, when the 
boy hesitated. Torn between a desire to give a 
fictitious name and an inclination to escape by 
running away while the officer was off his guard. 
Bob hesitated another second. Then, realizing 


US THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


the futility of trying to conceal his identity, he 
replied boldly : 

^‘Robert Lane!’’ 

‘'Lane I Lane ! Is it a German name ? Was 
one of your parents German?” 

“No!” exclaimed Bob, sullenly. “There ’s no 
German blood in me. My mother was a Belgian, 
and my father an American.” 

“American!” The word came out viciously. 
“American! ” he repeated, growing very red in the 
face. “They ’re worse than the French or Eng- 
lish. They are Yankee pigs. They think they 
can fight, but they ’re bluffers — money-makers — 
little traders!” 

“They can fight, you ’ll find,” interrupted Bob. 
“They ’ll give the German troops a run for their 
money.” 

''Achf Fight!” scornfully. They ’ll run the 
first time they hear our guns.” 

“How about Chateau-Thierry!” Bob inter- 
rupted boldly. “Did n’t they fight and lick the 
Germans there?” 

“Eh ! What ’s that ! Chateau-Thierry ! ” 

“And Belleau Woods!” continued Bob, defi- 


BOB ARRESTED AS A SPY 129 

antly, his anger up. ^^Did n’t they drive your best 
troops out there?” 

The surprise and anger of the officer threatened 
to bring on an attack of apoplexy. His veins 
swelled up and his face grew nearly purple with 
rage. But his prisoner was a boy, and he would 
treat him disdainfully. 

know nothing about the places you speak 
of,” he replied loftily, shrugging his shoulders. 
‘^There are no such places; and if the Yankee pigs 
are there, it must be far behind the lines, where 
German bullets can’t reach them.” 

Bob laughed good-naturedly, for now that he 
had betrayed so much of the knowledge that had 
filtered in to him through his Vigilantes, he was 
boastful enough to want to go farther. 

^^Chateau-Thierry is right in the thickest part 
of the fighting,” he replied, ‘‘and the Germans 
had to get out of it in a hurry when the Americans 
attacked them. Thousands of them were killed 
and wounded or captured.” 

“Americans, you mean!” 

“No, Germans, and some of your best troops.” 

In his enthusiasm Bob had forgotten that he 


130 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


was talking to a German officer, and his knowl- 
edge of such intimate progress on the West Front 
suddenly aroused the other’s suspicion. He 
leaned forward and glared at Bob. Then, with 
a heavy hand on his collar, he jerked him for- 
ward. 

spy ! ” he hissed. ‘‘A young American spy ! 
Ach! The brave American can repeat this to the 
commandant, and then — ” 

He waved his hands over his head, imitated the 
action of a firing-squad, and ended with the one 
word, ^Toufff^^ 

Holding Bob by the collar, he turned to Egmont 
and Guy: ‘T shall not want you to-night. The 
American spy is the one I was after. Go ! ” 

Guy and Egmont remained stock-still, for it 
was not their nature to run when one of their 
companions was in trouble. Seeing their hesita- 
tion, the officer grumbled a word of command to 
the guard, who raised his bayonet and made as if 
to prod them with it. The boys stepped back a 
few paces, but did not run. 

‘^Go on home, Egmont and Guy,” Bob said. 
'T ’m in no danger. It ’s all bluff and talk.” 


BOB ARRESTED AS A SPY 131 

‘‘We don’t want to leave you, Bob,” replied 
Egmont. 

“You can’t do any good by staying. You ’ll 
only get yourself into trouble. I don’t mind 
spending a night in the guardhouse. In the 
morning they ’ll release me.” 

Guy and Egmont reluctantly drew away, and 
finally^ disappeared in the shadows of a side street. 
Bob was led off by his captors and placed under 
lock and key for the night. 

Events had followed one another so fast that 
his mind was too excited for sleep. He kept 
thinking of Jean and Charlotte, and wondered if 
they had made good their escape from the city, 
and if so, where were they hiding ? He was glad 
for Charlotte^s sake that they had not delayed un- 
til morning. He shuddered at what might have 
happened if she had not gone. 

During the sleepless hours of the night, he re- 
called Madame and Monsieur de Chokier. How 
splendidly they had met and faced their sorrow, 
and how calmly and defiantly they had answered 
the German officer’s brutal threats ! 

He reviewed the day’s work in the abandoned 


122 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


sewer, and exulted at the thought that the wires 
connected with the underground mines had been 
cut. If the Huns were ever forced to evacuate 
Brussels, they would attempt to blow up the 
square with the mines planted under the houses, 
but what would be their surprise when they re- 
fused to go off? Bob smiled to himself. He 
would like to be present to see their consternation. 

Toward morning he finally fell asleep, and did 
not awaken until some time past daybreak. He 
was finally aroused by a guard, and after a break- 
fast of the coarse prison fare, he was ordered to 
follow him. Curious and a little anxious as to 
his fate, he accompanied the guard through a 
long, dark corridor, and came out into a small 
room where an officer, with many decorations 
pinned to his breast, was awaiting him. The mo- 
ment Bob appeared, the young Prussian who had 
arrested him, came in by another door. 

“Is this the American spy you arrested. Lieu- 
tenant?’^ the superior officer asked, turning to the 
other. 

“Yes, he is the Yankee pig. He boasted of his 
knowledge, and — ” 


BOB ARRESTED AS A SPY 


133 


^‘He ’s nothing but a youth — a mere boy,” mur- 
mured the elderly officer. 

“He ’s old enough to work, and therefore old 
enough to be a dangerous enemy.” 

“All right. We ’ll see what he knows.” 

Bob knew he was in for a quiz such as he had 
never been subjected to before. He recalled 
what he had heard of the third degree that the 
police used to give to prisoners back home. 
Would they resort to physical force, or depend 
chiefly on browbeating and threats ? 

The examination began in a leisurely way, and 
without any show of force or threats. Indeed, 
the superior officer assumed the attitude of one 
interested in him, smiling in a benevolent manner 
occasionally; but he took Bob’s whole pedigree, 
an aide writing down the questions and answers 
with scrupulous care. When this preliminary 
had been finished, the officer turned to him and 
said: 

“Now tell me what you said to Lieutenant 
Bohn last night.” ^ 

Bob related all he could recall, repeating the 
conversation word for word. The officer made 


134 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


no comment until he was through. Then, twid- 
dling his stubby thumbs over his chest, he added : 

‘‘Now tell me how you knew all this. But be 
careful that you don’t tell me a lie. I want noth- 
ing but the truth.” ^ 

“Why, sir,” Bob replied, truthfully, and with 
an innocent expression in his blue eyes, “it is 
common talk. Everybody knows it in Brussels.” 

“Everybody 1 ” 

“Nearly everybody — even the boys and girls.” 

The man scowled and twisted one end of his 
mustache into his mouth and began chewing it. 
He was both annoyed and troubled. Bob, fear- 
ing to be pressed too closely, suddenly thought of 
a way to divert suspicion from himself. 

“Why, even Ta Libre Belgique’ says so,” he 
added. 

The effect of these words was instantaneous. 
The fatherly, benevolent expression on the offi- 
cer’s face disappeared, and a look of rage suc- 
ceeded it. He became red, and then purple. He 
rose from his seat and smashed his hand down so 
heavily upon the table that his aide, busily en- 


BOB ARRESTED AS A SPY 


135 


gaged in writing, jumped back in fright. Turn- 
ing to the lieutenant, he thundered: 

‘‘That’s your spy — that paper! How many 
times have I ordered you to suppress it 1 Go and 
find it, and bring the owner of it to me 1 I have 
said so I Obey 1 ” 

His rage was fully justified, and in his heart 
Bob was laughing. “La Libre Belgique” was a 
Belgian newspaper that had been published se- 
cretly in Brussels ever since the invasion. A re- 
ward of five thousand, then ten, and finally fif- 
teen, thousand dollars, had been offered to any 
one whose information would lead to the discov- 
ery of the editor and printer of it. 

But the search had been in vain. Order after 
order had been issued to suppress it, but the sheet 
continued to appear more or less regularly, and 
was secretly distributed among the Belgians. 
The utmost effort of the German intelligence bu- 
reau had failed to unearth it. 

In intimating that “La Libre Belgique” was 
the source of his information. Bob had effectually 
diverted suspicion from himself. A few minutes 


136 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


later he was dismissed and released; but as he 
left the prison and made his way outside, he was 
aware of peering eyes following him. Were his 
footsteps shadowed by a spy for the purpose of 
locating what was more important to the German 
commandant — the discovery of the secret print- 
ing-place of the defiant newspaper? Bob smiled 
at the thought, and continued on his way to his 
cousin’s home. 


CHAPTER X 


THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU 

E GMONT greeted Bob’s return with effusive 
demonstrations of joy, for, all night long, 
not once had he closed his eyes in sleep. 

. “How did you escape. Bob?” he demanded. 

“They let me go,” was the laughing rejoinder, 
“just as I expected they would. That young prig 
of a lieutenant had nothing on me.” 

“But tell me what happened,” asked Egmont, 
eagerly. 

In a few words Bob related the incidents of the 
examination before the commandant, and then 
added: “That isn’t the first time ‘La Libre 
Belgique’ has helped out people in trouble. I 
wonder who publishes it, and how they manage to 
do it. Every German officer and private is on 
the lookout for the editor.” 

“Whoever he is, he ’s a great patriot!” replied 
137 


138 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


Egmont, enthusiastically. ‘T like to congratu- 
late him.’^ 

‘Terhaps it ’s just as well we don’t know him,” 
mused Bob. ‘T have reasons to believe I ’m be- 
ing shadowed, Egmont. They think I know the 
editor, and where the paper is published. That ’s 
why they let me off so easily. It was a ruse to 
make a bigger capture.” 

^‘Then we ’d better keep away from our meet- 
ing-place for a few days. They might trace us 
to the abandoned sewer.” 

^‘Yes, we ’ll keep out of it for the present. 
Pass the word around to the boys that we ’re be- 
ing watched. We might make a trip outside the 
city, just to throw them off the trail. Let ’s see — 
can’t we visit the ruined chateau near Laeken? 
I ’ve always wanted to see it. There ’s no Ger- 
man guard there now. It will be a sort of vaca- 
tion in the country.” 

‘‘Yes, but the Germans are at Laeken at the 
king’s summer palace. We don’t want to go 
near that.” 

“I ’ll keep away from them. I Ve had enough 
of their company to last me for some time.” 


THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU 139 

Laeken was a short distance from the suburbs 
of Brussels, and was noted chiefly as being the 
seat of King Albert’s summer palace, perched on 
a hill overlooking the city. It was an imposing 
building of gray stone in the Renaissance style. 
The greenhouses surrounding it were erected by 
King Leopold, and before the war they were con- 
sidered the largest and finest in Europe. One 
could walk for miles through glass covered walks. 

The German high command had taken posses- 
sion of the summer palace, and many of the 
greenhouses had been dismantled or completely 
destroyed; but it was still an imposing and won- 
derful place. Beyond the splendid park of 
Laeken stretched a series of beautiful chateaus. 
One of these dated back several centuries, and its 
ruins were visited by many travelers. 

It had not been disturbed by the invaders, for 
there was nothing in its appearance to excite 
cupidity or to arouse their animosity. It repre- 
sented a past age which had no connection with 
the present war. A report had been current that 
a concrete emplacement for big guns had been 
built under the ruins before the war by a German, 


140 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


who had betrayed his adopted country; but there 
had been no verification of this story. As the 
Belgians, to save their beautiful capital from 
bombardment, had surrendered Brussels without 
a struggle, the invading army had not found it 
necessary to use their big guns, and the historic 
ruins had been left untouched. There was noth- 
ing in them that could prove of value to the con- 
querors. 

Bob and Egmont having decided to make a day 
of it in the country, they invited Guy to accom- 
pany them, and set out early the following morn- 
ing. Once more they were care-free, rollicking 
boys, with no more serious thought on their minds 
than ^hat of having a good time. They carried 
fish-lines and hooks in their pockets, although 
fishing was ''streng verboten ” — strictly forbidden 
— in any of the streams or lakes by order of the 
German high command. But there was always 
the chance of slyly dropping a line in some ob- 
scure pool or hole and hauling out a good fish. 
The very fact that it was forbidden by the enemy 
of their country added zest and temptation to the 
sport. 


THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU 141 


The old ruins of the chateau were several miles 
beyond the king’s summer palace, and outside of 
the park that inclosed it. Egmont knew a short 
cut across the fields and through the woods, which 
enabled them to reach it without encountering any 
sentries. Once among the trees they felt reason- 
ably safe from prying eyes, and soon reached the 
chateau. 

wonder if any spy tracked us,” Bob re- 
marked as he threw himself down on the leafy 
earth. “I did n’t see any one, did you?” 

^‘No, but we might watch here,” replied Guy. 
“We can hide in the bushes, and if any one was 
following us he ’ll have to show himself. He can’t 
reach the woods without crossing that open field.” 

Exhilarated by the thought that they were out- 
witting the German intelligence officers, they con- 
cealed themselves in the bushes near the edge of 
the wood and waited. They had a clear view of 
the open field. Any one crossing it would have 
to come out in plain sight. 

“I don’t believe we were shadowed,” remarked 
Guy after a considerable wait. “Why not go 
on?” 


142 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

“No, we ’ll wait a little longer,” replied Bob. 
“If any one was following us, he would give us 
time to get out of the woods. He might be shrewd 
enough to think we ’d hide here and watch for 
him.” 

“He couldn’t conceal his uniform from us,” 
Guy added. 

Bob laughed good-naturedly. 

“You don’t think a spy would be so stupid as 
to walk around in a German uniform, do you?” 
he asked. “No, if he ’s following us he ’ll ap- 
pear in civilian dress. He ’ll turn up as an ordi- 
nary Belgian peasant, and appear just as stupid.” 

They waited a full hour, although it was irk- 
some to remain quiet that length of time, with 
the birds singing in the trees and all nature smil- 
ing and beckoning to them. Finally Bob rose 
and declared there was no further danger. 
Either the spy had not followed them, or had been 
thrown off their track. 

“Come on, we won’t wait any longer,” he an- 
nounced. “Let ’s fish in the brook that runs 
through this woods. Who knows but we may 
catch something?” 


THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU 143 

They began digging for bait, lifting up old 
stones and trunks of fallen trees, until they had 
unearthed a few grubs and worms for their hooks. 
Cutting down poles for their fishing-rods, and 
trimming off the small branches, they made their 
way to the turbulent little brook that flowed rol- 
lickingly through the heart of the woods. 

Selecting a favorable place they cast their lines 
in the water, and began angling for anything 
tempted by the bait. But either the fish were not 
biting that morning, or the Germans had fished 
the streams until there was nothing left, for after 
an hour of patient waiting they gave it up. 

They threw away their poles, rolled up their 
lines to tuck away in their pockets, and once more 
resumed their trip in the direction of the ruined 
chateau. The park that had once surrounded the 
ancient ruins backed up to the very edge of the 
woods, and they reached it without exposing them- 
selves to open view. 

The chateau was merely a pile of ancient ruins, 
with vines creeping over and hiding them partly 
from view. They had been deserted so long that 
the weeds and overgrowth were everywhere. The 


144 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


picturesque piles of masonry, rising out of their 
bed of rampant green, held the attention of the 
boys for some time. They stood surveying them 
before attempting to climb over them. 

^‘No one ’s around,’’ Egmont whispered. 
^Tet ’s go on.” 

Bob nodded, and they began their climb. The 
walls in places were so rotten and weak that they 
had to use extreme care. Once inside the ruins 
they found the same conditions prevailing, noth- 
ing but neglect, disorder, and decay. The vines 
and weeds had made a brave attempt to hide what 
man had created, but underneath their covering 
the relics of a past age came to view. 

After making a thorough investigation of the 
once turreted walls and the moat surrounding 
them, now filled in with debris, they made their 
way into what had been the main hall of the cha- 
teau. Here an old pair of stone steps, in a better 
state of preservation than the walls, led down- 
ward, and the boys, bent on exploration, de- 
scended them. 

At the bottom they came to a cellarlike room. 


THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU 145 


with sagging walls and half-demolished ceiling. 
They made their way gingerly across this to an 
arched passageway that seemed to lead still fur- 
ther into the heart of the chateau. 

“Where does this go?’^ asked Bob, peering into 
the dimness. 

“There was an old dungeon down there,” re- 
plied Egmont, “where they used to keep prisoners. 
Nearly all of the old chateaux had dungeons un- 
derneath them. Later they were turned into 
wine-cellars.” 

“Let ’s see it,” said Bob. “I was never in one 
before.” 

“Better not,” his cousin warned. “The walls 
may fall in and bury you alive.” 

“Oh, if they Ve stood up all these years, I 
guess they won’t cave in to-day,” Bob added, en- 
tering the archway. 

Egmont and Guy followed, for Bob’s explor- 
ing curiosity was shared by them, and they were 
not going to stay behind on account of some fan- 
cied danger. 

The archway opened into a long tunnel, the 


146 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


walls of which were damp and musty. They had 
stumbled along this for some distance until they 
came to another short flight of stairs. 

‘T would n’t go any further,” Egmont cautioned 
again. 

But Bob was already descending the stone steps, 
and at the bottom he hailed them. 

“Here ’s another tunnel. Where does that go ?” 

“I don’t know, but we ’d better go back.” 

“No, I ’m going on.” 

Bob stopped suddenly and cocked his head to 
one side. 

“Listen!” he whispered. “I thought I heard 
a noise.” 

“No, it was Guy’s foot kicking a stone,” re- 
plied his cousin. 

Bob nodded, but remained listening. Then he 
found it was not so much a noise that had at- 
tracted his attention, as a vibration of the floor 
on which they stood. It was so distant and muf- 
fled that it was scarcely perceptible, but when they 
remained perfectly still they could hear — or feel — 
it distinctly. 

It was a series of jarring vibrations like the 


THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU 147 

distant pounding of horses’ hoofs on the earth. 
‘Ht comes from above us,” Guy whispered, after 
a long pause. 

“Yes, horsemen,” replied Bob. “Do you sup- 
pose they have followed us, after all?” 

“Yes,” murmured Egmont, “and perhaps 
thrown a cordon of Uhlans around the cha- 
teau.” 

“Well, they ’re taking a lot of trouble for noth- 
ing,” said Bob. “If they think we ’re concealing 
, somebody in the ruins we ’ll have the laugh on 
them. Let ’s keep them guessing.” 

“They ’ll come down here soon to look for us, 
I suppose.” 

“Then they ’re going to have a hard time find- 
ing us. Come on, we ’ll hide in this tunnel. I 
wonder where it leads.” 

“To the dungeon,” replied Egmont. “I ’m 
sure of it.” 

Bob led the way, proceeding cautiously along in 
the darkness to avoid tripping. The tunnel was 
dripping with moisture, and when they touched 
the walls with bare hands it made them shudder. 
Here and there small animals and reptiles 


148 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


crawled away, startling them at times with their 
squeaks or hisses. 

don’t like this,” remarked Guy, finally, 
’d rather be up where it ’s lighter.” 

^'Listen!” Bob whispered. ‘‘The sounds are 
increasing. Feel that wall. It vibrates as if — ” 
“Are you sure this tunnel does n’t have an out- 
let into the open air?” interrupted Guy. “We ’re 
getting nearer the sounds.” 

“I never knew that it did,” replied Egmont, in 
perplexity. “But the walls may have crumbled 
in ahead and made a breach in the tunnel.” 

Bob had been standing very still, both hands 
on the moist wall. Suddenly he exclaimed : 
“That is n’t from above! It ’s down here! ” 

His two companions stared at him in amaze- 
ment. “Yes, I ’m sure it ’s down here,” Bob 
added. 

“How could Uhlans be down here?” asked Guy, 
incredulously. 

“Perhaps they ’re using the dungeon for a 
stable,” replied Bob, smiling. The others scoffed 
at such a suggestion, and Bob was finally forced 
to add: “Oh, I didn’t mean that seriously. 


THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU 149 


But I never said that the noise was made by the 
hoofs of horses. I don’t think it is. Listen 
again ! It is n’t a noise at all. It ’s just a vi- 
bration.” 

“Sounds enough like the muffled pounding of 
hoofs to me,” Egmont answered. 

“They would n’t keep it up so steadily, would 
they? It has n’t stopped once since we first heard 
it. It ’s as regular as — as machinery.” 

They applied their ears to the walls and listened 
in silence for some time. The uncanny pound- 
ing continued, but strangely enough, seemed to 
come no nearer. Coupled with the darkness and 
the strangeness of their position, it was nerve- 
racking. 

“Let ’s go back,” murmured Egmont. 

“No,” was Bob’s stubborn answer, “I’m going 
to find out what makes that noise. Come on.” 

Egmont grumbled, but followed, and Guy, with 
even more reluctance, brought up the rear. 
Creeping stealthily along, using the right wall as 
a guide. Bob led the way in the darkness. To 
their great surprise, the muffled noises and vibra- 
tions increased as they proceeded, until finally 


150 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


Guy and Egmont were as eager as their leader to 
explore the mystery. There was something 
strange and uncanny about it that piqued their 
curiosity, even while it frightened them. 

Bob stumbled along blindly, for the floor in 
many places was littered with sharp stones and 
fallen mortar. The tunnel curved to the right, 
and instead of rounding it, he struck against one 
side. 

“Look out! ” he whispered. “It turns here.’’ 

The moment they turned the curve, the muffled 
vibrations became so clear and distinct that the 
boys stopped in tense surprise. Whatever it 
was, they were close upon the solution of the 
mystery. Their hearts beat rapidly, while they 
listened. 

“It ’s just ahead!” Bob whispered. 

He started forward so eagerly that he tripped 
upon something in his pathway. The next 
moment he went plunging forward on hands and 
knees, landing with considerable force on the 
hard floor. With a grunt of pain and dismay, 
he lay there a moment, a little stunned by the 
fall. 


THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU 161 

“Are you hurt, Bob?’’ Egmont asked softly. 

“No, not much. But listen! Where’s the 
noise? Do you hear it?” 

All three remained absolutely quiet and mo- 
tionless, their ears vainly trying to catch the 
sound that had led them onward like a will-o’- 
wisp. But it was deathly quiet in the tunnel, 
and the vibration had absolutely ceased. The 
silence was so startling that they dared scarcely 
breathe for fear of breaking it. 


CHAPTER XI 


PRISONERS 

T he puzzling quiet that followed Bob’s mis- 
hap was further accentuated by a queer 
sensation that somebody else was with them in 
the narrow chamber, and that they were being 
watched by eyes that could see them through the 
darkness. Or, if eyes could not penetrate the 
intense gloom, at least ears could hear. 

The pounding noises that had drawn them on- 
ward, and had now mysteriously ceased, were 
undoubtedly of human origin. Not one of the 
boys attributed anything supernatural to them, 
though the idea that they were caused by the 
pounding of hoofs on the earth above had long 
since been dismissed. They felt sure the sounds 
had come from somewhere in the underground 
passageway through which they had been crawl- 
ing. 

After the first shock — for intense silence can 

152 


PRISONERS 


153 


give as distinct a shock to the mind as a great 
explosion — the three little adventurers remained 
as quiet as so many frightened rabbits cowering 
before a hound that had run them into their bur- 
row. They were almost afraid to breathe, and in 
their effort to inhale and exhale noiselessly they 
made queer little sounds that startled them. 

The silence continued for so long that Bob be- 
gan to doubt his senses. Had not the queer 
vibrations been part of his imagination? The 
underground passageway was so quiet and nor- 
mal that it was difficult for him to conceive of 
it any other way. He finally ventured a whis- 
per. 

‘T wonder what it was!’^ 

Egmont shook his head. 

“I don’t know, but we ’d better crawl back. I 
don’t like it in here.” 

^Ts it safe to strike a match?” 

“No, no! If anybody’s watching us, that 
would give us away.” 

“I hate to go back without explaining the mys- 
tery. Let ’s wait and see if the noises come 
again.” 


154 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


They waited a tense ten minutes, but nothing 
happened — not the slightest sound indicated the 
presence of any one in the tunnel. Finally, Bob 
could bear it no longer. 

“I ’m going to strike a match,’^ he announced. 
“There ’s nothing to fear. Suppose it 's a Ger- 
man spy; he can’t do any more than capture us, 
and we Ve done nothing. Our presence here 
is n’t a crime.” 

“No, but — ” began his cousin, hesitatingly, 
and then stopped for lack of any good reason for 
objecting. 

Bob accepted this as approval of his intention, 
and taking a match from his pocket, he struck 
it on the cover of the box. There was a brilliant 
flare which illumined the tunnel ahead; but it 
disclosed nothing but the moisture-dripping walls. 
When the wood of the match caught fire the 
light was dimmer, but steadier. Bob held it 
over his head to look around. 

“There ’s nothing here,” he murmured. “I ’ll 
go a little farther, and then strike another 
match.” 


PRISONERS 


155 


Neither Egmont nor Guy objected to this, and 
when Bob moved forward they followed close 
behind him. They had no desire to get sepa- 
rated in the tunnel, and they snuggled close to- 
gether. Ten feet ahead Bob stopped and struck 
another match. This time it lighted up the pass- 
ageway only a short distance, for directly ahead 
it took a sharp turn again, and they could not 
see around this corner. 

‘Tt turns to the left,” he whispered. “When 
we get to the corner I ’ll strike another match.” 

They followed the walls until they came to 
the curve, and once more Bob fumbled in his 
box for a match. He was on the point of strik- 
ing it when something happened that completely 
upset all their calculations. 

There came a sudden flash of light ahead that 
cut through the darkness like a searchlight, tem- 
porarily blinding and paralyzing them. Several 
dark forms shot forward, and before any of the 
boys could raise a hand to defend himself, he 
was borne to the earth and securely pinioned by 
powerful arms. 


156 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

‘‘Have you got all of them?’^ came a growling 
voice in front. “Be quite sure! Search the 
tunnel.’’ 

A series of lights flashed all around them, as 
dark figures leaped over the prostrate prisoners 
and began a hurried search of the passageway 
back of them. The lights and the figures gave 
a strange, uncanny aspect to the scene. Despite 
their courage, the boys trembled. They had no 
idea who the men were or their purpose there. 

Their captors had trussed them up quickly, 
and put gags in their mouths so they could not 
speak. The lights disappeared around the 
curve in the tunnel, and for some time the dark- 
ness was as intense as before. 

Five minutes later the men with the electric 
torches returned. “No one else,” the first man 
reported. 

“Then bring them in,” replied the one who 
had spoken first. 

In perfect silence their captors picked up the 
boys and carried them through the tunnel and 
into an underground chamber, which, as Egmont 
immediately recognized, and Bob suspected, had 


PRISONERS 


157 


been the dungeon of the old chateau and had 
been used later as a wine cellar. It was a broad, 
moderately high chamber, hewn out of the solid 
rock, the only entrance to it being that through 
which the boys had been carried. The iron door 
that had once guarded the passageway had long 
since rusted off its hinges, but a new one, made 
of timber and braced with rough-hewn logs, had 
replaced it. 

When this door was closed, and a thick beam 
placed in front of it, a huge kerosene lamp, sus- 
pended from the middle of the roof, was lighted 
and several smaller ones along the walls. It 
was not a brilliant illumination, but enough for 
the prisoners to inspect their surroundings. 

At first they were more interested in the men 
about them. If they were German spies, their 
dress did not indicate it. They were in civilian 
clothes — rough, stained jackets, trousers and 
aprons; they had bearded faces and small, burn- 
ing eyes, which constantly shifted from one of 
the prisoners to the other. 

The chamber was furnished in the strangest 
way. In fact, it might be said that it was n’t 


158 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


furnished at all, for boxes were the only seats 
visible, and huddles of straw and blankets in 
the corners were the only signs of beds. There 
was a long table down the center, but it was lit- 
tered with books and papers rather than with 
dishes and things to eat. A queer-looking ma- 
chine stood in one corner, and rows of flat, shal- 
low boxes were arranged near it. Not even Bob 
could make a guess as to their meaning. 

The man who seemed to be the leader finally 
took a torch from one of his men and flashed it 
in the faces of the boys, studying their features 
under conditions more favorable to him than to 
his prisoners. He continued this for some time, 
frowning all the while. 

‘‘Boys,’’ he mumbled finally, in disgust. 
“They ’re not spies.” 

“Don’t be too sure of that,” murmured an- 
other bearded companion. “Spies are spies, 
whether boys or men.” 

The two made a more critical study of the 
faces of their helpless prisoners, while a third 
went through their pockets. When the result of 


PRISONERS 


159 


this search revealed nothing but the usual con- 
tents of the average boy’s pocket — knives, fish- 
line, hooks, a few marbles, and knick-knacks of 
apparently no earthly value, the man showed his 
disgust. 

‘‘Nothing but trash,” he growled, throwing 
them on the ground in a heap. 

The others glanced at them, and then back at 
their prisoners. “Remove the gags from their 
mouths,” commanded the leader, “and we ’ll give 
them a chance to explain.” 

The relief that came with the removal of the 
uncomfortable gags brought a sigh from each 
boy. 

“Thanks!” said Bob, grinning at his captors. 
“I never knew a gag could feel so uncomfort- 
able.” 

The leader again stared searchingly at them. 
Now that his captives were boys, and not full- 
grown men, a good deal of the fierceness left his 
face, and his eyes twinkled. 

“Who are you?” he asked, nodding at Bob. 

“Robert Lane,” was the prompt reply. “And 


160 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


that ’s my cousin Egmont d’Anethan/’ he added, 
speaking for the others. ^‘And the other ’s Guy 
d’Assches.” 

^^Count d’Anethan’s grandson?’’ queried the 
leader, indicating Egmont. 

^^Yes. If you ’ve lived in Belgium, you ought 
to know him — everybody does; and I ’m his 
American cousin.” 

The man ’s face changed slowly. The old 
fear and suspicion was succeeded by a look of 
friendliness. 

^^Yes,” he nodded; know Count d’Anethan 
quite well, and I ’ve heard of his two grand- 
children.” 

He began stroking his shaggy beard in medita- 
tion. Then he asked, with a little return of his 
former suspicion, ^‘What were you doing down 
here? What were you after in the tunnel?” 

“Nothing, except to explore it,” replied Bob, 
promptly. “Egmont said it led to the old dun- 
geon of the ruined chateau, and I wanted to see 
it.” 

“Well, you see it now,” was the smiling reply. 

“This it?” queried Bob. “Well,” — ^grinning. 


PRISONERS 


161 


“it looks like a pretty good prison. I ’d hate to 
be shut up here for a year or two. Did they 
keep many prisoners here?” 

“I don’t know. That was before our time. 
I imagine they did, who can tell?” 

The leader withdrew to confer with his men, 
and while they talked together at the other side 
of the chamber the boys had a chance to whisper 
to each other without being overheard. 

“Who are they, do you think?” Bob asked. 
“And what are they doing down here?” 

“I don’t know,” replied Egmont, “but they ’re 
not Germans. They ’re Belgians. Anybody 
would know that.” 

“And the face of the leader is familiar to me,” 
remarked Guy. “I ’ve seen him somewhere in 
Brussels, but I can’t remember where.” 

“Then if we can prove we ’re friends of Bel- 
guim, and not traitors, they ought to let us go,” 
added Bob. 

“I don’t know,” mumbled his cousin. “We ’ve 
stumbled upon some secret of theirs, and they 
may be afraid to give us our liberty. How do 
they know we won’t tell what we ’ve seen?” 


16a THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

‘Well, we ’ll soon know. They ’ve reached a 
decision, and their leader ’s come to tell us.” 

The dark-bearded man was approaching. He 
stopped before the boys, and stood for a moment 
in silence. “It ’s unfortunate that you stumbled 
in here,” he began finally. “It puts us in a very 
difficult position. We don’t want to hurt you 
or cause you discomfort, but for the sake of Bel- 
gium we have to do many things that we would 
not do at any other time. We have to consider 
the greater question of our country’s welfare. 
Now if we should release you, you would talk 
of what you had seen here, and — ” 

“Not if it’s for the cause of Belgium!” in- 
terrupted Bob. “We can keep a secret as well as 
any one.” 

The man shook his head sagely. “It would 
be dangerous to let you go. A German spy 
might overhear you talking of it, and then — ” 
he waved his hand expressively over his head — 
“that would be the end of all our work.” 

“What are you going to do with us then?” 
interrupted Guy. “Keep us prisoners until the 
war ends or — or — kill us?” 


PRISONERS 


163 


“No,” said the man, smiling, “we ’re not going 
to kill you, and we ’d hate to imprison you for 
the duration of the war. The only thing I can 
think of is to hold you until we can move to 
some other place. That would take quite a 
while, and would be a big nuisance. Good hid- 
ing-places are scarce now that the Huns have 
flooded the country with spies.” 

“Yes, we know that,” replied Bob, “but we Ve 
got one they have n’t found yet.” 

“I suppose so,” was the smiling comment. 
“Boys know good hiding-places if anybody does. 
But we have to have a roomy place for our 
work.” 

Bob glanced around the rock-hewn chamber 
and recalled the muffled pounding and vibration 
that had drawn them on in their explorations. 
His eyes rested on the machine at one side of 
the chamber, and the shallow boxes> standing 
near it. There was something familiar in both, 
and for a few moments his mind was busy try- 
ing to piece together disjointed facts. Suddenly 
his face cleared. He looked up triumphantly. 

“I know now what you ’re doing down here!” 


164 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

he exclaimed, not realizing the effect the words 
would have on his captors. 

‘^What!’’ demanded the leader, in a voice that 
suddenly lost all its friendliness. 

“That ’s a printing-press, is n’t it?” Bob asked. 
“And those shallow boxes are type-cases. I was 
in a printing-office once, and — ” 

“Well, what of that?” asked the man, trying 
to appear indifferent. 

“Nothing, except — except — ” 

“What?” snarled the other. 

Bob hesitated to speak what was on his mind, 
but his suspicion had become almost a certainty, 
and it was impossible to hold it back. 

“Don’t you print Ta Libre Belgique’ down 
here?” he asked. “Yes,” he added trium- 
phantly, “and you must be the editor of it. The 
Huns have set a big price on your head. 
They ’re looking everywhere for you. When I 
told the commandant I ’d read in your paper 
about the American soldiers coming in big num- 
bers, he nearly had a fit. He said to the lieu- 
tenant that your paper was the spy, and not I. 
That ’s how I got off.” 


PRISONERS 165 

“What are you talking about?’’ cut in the 
man, frowning. 

Bob, realizing that his disjointed remarks were 
not very enlightening, quickly related the series 
of events that had led up to his arrest, confident 
that the editor of the only paper published 
in Brussels of Belgian origin would not be- 
tray him. He explained in some detail how 
Jean and Charlotte had disguised themselves and 
escaped. When he came to his acquittal, he 
added : 

“So you see, your paper really saved me. If 
I had n’t thought of it they might have held me 
as an American spy. I guess I ’ll have to thank 
you for it.” 

Without confirming or denying any connection 
with the paper that had done so much to keep 
up the spirits of the Belgians during the long 
German occupation, the man asked : 

“Where did you get all your information about 
the Americans coming over in such numbers? 
Was it just guesswork, or have you seen some of 
the English papers?” 

“No, it was n’t guesswork,” replied Bob. 


166 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


slowly. came to me straight enough, and I 
know it ’s true.” 

‘‘Who told you?” 

Bob hesitated a second, and then replied, smil- 
ing: 

“The Vigilantes!” 

“Vigilantes! Who are they? I never heard 
of them.” Then, scowling, the man added: “Is 
this some boyish fooling ? If so, this is no place 
for it. Whether you know it or not, you Ve got 
yourself into a serious predicament. We can’t 
let you go now. The fate of too many good men 
depends upon it. We must hold you prisoners 
until we can move to another hiding-place.” 


CHAPTER XII 


THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 

B ob realized that he had not helped matters 
by his reference to the organization he had 
formed, and, in order to convince his captors of 
the seriousness of his purpose, it was necessary 
to take them fully into his confidence. This 
was something that none of the Vigilantes had 
done before, and, indeed, it was a part of their 
creed to keep the secret from their elders. But 
the emergency was great, and if the speaker was 
the unknown editor of ‘Ta Libre Belgique,’^ he 
could be trusted. 

The boy looked up at the scowling face, and 
asked, “Are you the editor of Ta Libre Bel- 
gique’?’’ 

The man did not reply. His face turned red, 
and an angry gleam entered his eyes. “Keep 
them prisoners, Jacques,” he said, turning to one 
167 


168 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

of his companions. ‘‘They don’t intend any 
wrong, I suppose, but boys can’t be trusted.” 

Bob’s face flushed, and with some difficulty 
he raised himself to a sitting position. “Wait 
until you ’ve heard our story before you say 
that,” he interrupted quickly. “We ’re working 
for the good of Belgium as well as you. The 
Boy Vigilantes are pledged to secrecy, but I 
know I can trust you. I ’ll tell you who they 
are.” 

The man was impressed by the seriousness of 
the speaker, and stopped to listen. 

“Go on!” he said gruffly, “my time’s pre- 
cious!” 

Bob cleared his throat, and began to relate 
briefly the story of how the Vigilantes had been 
organized. Their early work, which seemed un- 
important now in the light of subsequent events, 
he dwelt briefly upon. It consisted for the most 
part in spreading encouraging news among the 
enslaved population, helping the aged and in- 
firm, cheering those who were depressed, de- 
livering secretly copies of French and English 
papers that had been smuggled in, and keeping 


THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 169 

the people in touch with events outside of Brus- 
sels. 

Then he explained how the organization had 
spread from Brussels to Ghent, and from there 
to Antwerp, and from Malines to Bruges — how it 
gradually included the boys of city and country 
from one end of Belgium to the other. He told 
of how Henri Rogiers of Ghent had brought news 
to him of conditions in that city, and of how 
Albert de Decker of Antwerp and Alva Chasse 
of Malines had spread the organization to in- 
clude the best boys in their respective towns. 

When he came to the account of the discovery 
of the mines the Germans had placed under the 
city of Brussels to blow up the most important 
buildings in the event of their enforced evacua- 
tion, and of how the Vigilantes had cut the wires 
and spliced them with short lengths of non-con- 
ducting material, the men crowded around him 
and listened intently, craning their heads for- 
ward in eager interest. 

He related again their meeting with Jean de 
Chokier in the abanonded sewer, and their help 
in smuggling him and his sister out of the house 


170 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

just in time to avoid capture. His subsequent 
capture by the Germans, and the reason for their 
visit to the old chateau followed briefly. When 
he reached the end of his story, he looked up, 
and added: 

‘‘Now if you don’t believe we can keep a 
secret for the sake of our country, nothing I can 
say will convince you. Anyway, we know you 
publish ‘La Libre Belgique’ down here, and the 
secret is safe with us. No Hun could torture it 
from us.” 

He stopped and looked a little belligerently at 
the circle of faces. They were all old men, past 
middle life, but the fire of youth and patriotism 
burned in their eyes. They were doing a work 
for their country that would condemn them to 
long imprisonment, if not to death, should their 
conquerors learn of their secret. 

The leader was the first to speak. He leaned 
forward suddenly and caught Bob by the hand. 

“Incredible! Incredible!” he exclaimed. 
“Yet it must be true!” 

Under the stress of his emotion, he began pac- 
ing back and forth, his hands working nervously. 


THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 171 


^^Down-trodden, ruined, tortured by fire and 
sword, Belgium must live and be greater than 
ever again,’’ he murmured. ‘‘First, its brave 
soldiers are put to the test and prove worthy. 
Then its mothers and wives are spitted on the 
sword, outraged, beaten, enslaved, but their spirit 
is never broken. The aged and infirm are 
herded like cattle and half starved, and the yoke 
they bear galls, but does not break. And now 
its children, its brave boys and girls, the hope of 
our beloved country, rally to the standard and 
show they ’re worthy of their fathers and moth- 
ers. With such young patriots, O Belgium! 
nothing else matters 1 Thy name should be em- 
blazoned on the field of glory! Thermopylae 
and Marathon! I have lived to see them re- 
peated again here in peace-loving Belgium! 
Vive la Belgique!'' 

With the fire of intense patriotism burning in 
his eyes, he turned to his men, and added: ''Vive 
les Vigilantes!" 

The men responded with enthusiasm, the echo 
of their voices rolling through the cavernous 
depths of the chamber and tunnels like the 


m THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


rumbling of the surf in a cave. Bob was deeply 
moved by the spontaneous tribute to the organ- 
ization the boys had formed, but a little worried 
by the thought that some prowling German might 
overhear them. 

“Aren’t you afraid some spy will find you 
here?” Bob asked. 

“No, we ’re safe enough,” replied the leader. 

“But we heard the pounding of your press — or 
at least I suppose it was that which made the 
noise.” 

“Yes, we were busy running off a special edi- 
tion,” was the smiling reply, “and to get more 
air we left the door open. That ’s why you 
heard it. But it ’s closed now, and no noise 
goes through the padded door. We ’re safe in 
here.” 

The boys glanced in the direction of the heavy 
wooden door and saw that its thick planks were 
padded by an old mattress which deadened all 
sound and much of the vibration caused by the 
pounding of the press. Suddenly the leader of 
the gang of printers remembered something that 


THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 173 

had escaped his mind. Raising his hand, he 
said: 

‘^Release them ! They ’re Belgium’s friends 
and ours!” 

The ropes that bound the boys were cut so 
quickly that for a moment their numb hands and 
legs could not readjust themselves to the new 
freedom. The men helped them to their feet 
and began rubbing their stiff limbs. Food and 
drink were brought to them, and while the young 
Vigilantes ate and drank they were plied with 
all sorts of questions. 

Bob was so faint and hungry that he readily 
yielded the floor to Guy and Egmont, who soon 
found it so difficult to answer all the questions 
fired at them that they were in a fair way of not 
getting their portion of the refreshments. Bob 
grinned, and continued eating in silence. 
Finally satisfied, he got up and walked around 
the chamber to exercise his legs. 

^‘Do you mind if I look at the press?” he 
asked, approaching it. 

■ ‘‘No, you have the freedom of the place,” re- 


174 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

plied the leader. “It is not a big press, nor have 
we much assortment of type. Some of it wore 
out, and we had to replace it with new that we 
made ourselves. It ’s the most independent 
paper published in the world.’’ 

“I should think so,” Bob replied, smiling at 
the other’s grinning face. “The Germans think 
you ’re too independent.” 

“They ’d give a good deal to run us to earth, 
wouldn’t they? But not until Belgium is freed 
from the tyrant can they stop us. But I must 
apologize for our foreign service. Our wires 
are not working well, and our special correspond- 
ents must be taking a vacation. Our wire to 
Berlin is kept hot with German expletives. Still 
we manage.” 

Bob smiled at the other’s humor, for “La 
Libre Belgique” was perhaps the only paper in 
the world that had no special wires or any con- 
nection with international news agencies. It de- 
pended for its information upon its few friends, 
who managed to penetrate “the wall of iron and 
blood” to get little shreds of news that would put 
heart in their people through methods peculiarly 


THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 175 


their own. But what the paper lacked in news, 
it made up for in cheerful and witty sarcasms 
concerning their conquerors, always nourishing 
good humor and sustaining the optimism of the 
people of Belgium. 

A fresh copy of it was just off the press. Bob 
picked it up and glanced at it. Beneath the 
name in big lines was the motto: 

^‘Bulletin de Propagande Patriotique-Re- 
gulierement Irregulier Ne se soumettant 
a aucune censure.” 

Literally translating this. Bob read as follows : 

“Bulletin of Patriotic Propaganda — Regu- 
larly Irregular. We do not submit to 
any censorship.” 

Bob smiled, and once more looked up at its 
editor and publisher. 

“All it lacks is your name,” he remarked. 

“No, it ^s better without it,” replied the man, 
shrugging his shoulders. “Persons do not count 
in such times. We give our time and labor to 
our country for the good of all.” 


176 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

Bob nodded, for the speaker’s modesty rather 
than fear had kept him from proclaiming his 
name to all the world. With his record of bold 
defiance of the German authorities, it was not 
likely that he would be afraid to publish his 
name at the head of his paper. 

“I do not know your name,” the boy hesitated; 
“perhaps — ” 

“No,” was the emphatic reply, “I cannot tell 
you. It might get you into trouble, for I see 
you ’re not the kind to betray a friend even un- 
der compulsion. Not knowing the editor of ‘La 
Libre Belgique,’ you could not tell another.” 

He smiled so whimsically, his eyes bright and 
shining beneath their shaggy brows, that Bob 
felt strangely drawn toward him. In the stal- 
wart patriot he recognized not only an editor that 
had defied the German censorship and laughed 
at the keenest members of the German intelli- 
gence bureau in their effort to catch him, but a 
kindly human being who had preserved his 
sanity and sense of humor throughout the trying 
times of the war. Bob could well imagine him 
as an affectionate and kindly father and hus- 


THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 177 


band, who would like nothing better than the 
quiet, peaceful life of the family circle. His 
high, broad brow indicated also the scholar and 
thinker, a man who would be preeminent in any 
line he pursued. 

“Maybe you ’re right,” the boy said, after a 
pause. “It ’s dangerous to know too much. 
We ’re all uncertain what may happen to us to- 
morrow. Egmont and I stand in daily fear of 
being seized and deported to Germany. Al- 
though under fourteen, we look old enough to 
be fifteen, and Germany ’s combing the country 
for all boys and girls old enough to work for 
her.” 

The editor’s face suddenly clouded and grew 
serious. 

“Yes,” he replied slowly, “your danger is very 
real. I have received word from one of my 
trusted reporters that the age limit is to be low- 
ered for the next batch of youngsters. Ger- 
many ’s determined to drain the country of all 
human material that she can use. Having 
robbed us of all our wealth, stolen our machinery 
and valuable household articles, she is now look- 


178 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


ing to strip us of our young. She will stop at 
nothing. It is enough to rouse the dead from 
their graves! It is the most terrible crime of 
the ages ! God in his own wisdom must punish 
her in time! ” 

The man spoke slowly and vehemently, but 
with such powerful, concentrated force that the 
words seemed to burn in the brain. There was 
none of the excitement of the orator or demagogue 
in his voice. It was hard, bitter implacable. 

‘What do you think my cousin and I ought 
to do then?” Bob asked, after a pause. “I can’t 
go to Germany! I won’t go — not if I — ” 

“Words and threats are futile, my boy,” was 
the interruption. “We must face facts. Every 
boy of your age is doomed to go — unless you 
leave Belgium before it is too late.” 

“That was my idea,” Bob interrupted quickly. 
“I told Egmont we ought to get out of the coun- 
try. We have advised all the older members of 
the Vigilantes to leave for Holland, France, or 
any place of safety. Many of them, I hope, are 
on their way across the border.” 

“But you remain?” 


THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 179 


‘‘Yes, but not for long. We ’ll go soon.” 

“Don’t make it too late, then.” 

Bob was troubled by the speaker’s words, for 
in them he read the extreme gravity of the sit- 
uation. 

“I shall go at once!” he announced finally. 
“Egmont must go too.” 

“Where will you go — to Holland? The bor- 
der is closely guarded.” 

“No, I shall go west — to Ghent — to Bruges — 
and from there to France or Ypres. I want to 
join the Belgian forces. The Americans are 
there, I hear, as well as in France.” 

“How do you expect to get through the Ger- 
man lines?” was the inquisitive comment. 

“I don’t know, but I ’ll find a way. Yes, 
we ’ll get through. I have no fear of that.” 

“Overconfidence has ruined many a good in- 
tention.” 

“It beat the Huns at their wicked game,” Bob 
laughed. 

“Yes, but they ’re not the only ones whose 
plans have been spoilt by overconfidence,” was 
the solemn retort. 


180 THE BOY VIGILANTES OE BELGIUM 


Bob became instantly serious again. 

didn’t m^an to appear overconfident,” he 
replied. ‘T realize the dangers and difficulties. 
They will be great, and we ’ll have to use all our 
wits to escape them. But I believe we can do 
it if we ’re careful and patient. I ’m ready to 
undertake it. So is Egmont.” 

‘T ’m glad to hear you speak so,” replied the 
editor, drawing a sigh of relief. “Confidence, 
backed up with caution and wisdom, will carry 
one far. One must have all three to succeed 
in anything. I know you will get through.” 

He stopped and was quiet for a moment. 
Once or twice he glanced quizzically at Bob, and 
then dropped his eyes again. Finally he smiled 
and said: “If you have decided upon going, I 
shall use you as an agent for helping Belgium. 
It will not increase your danger and, if you get 
through, you will do my beloved country a great 
good. Do you care to undertake it?” 

“Yes, indeed,’’ replied Bob, eagerly. “Any- 
thing that will help the cause. I ’m ready. 
What is it?” 

“You ’re sure you want to take the risk?” 


THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 181 


‘T ’m going to start on my journey before an- 
other day/’ was the calm reply. 

The man smiled and nodded his head. 

‘^Then follow me,” he said. ‘T have some- 
thing to show you. It will surprise and interest 
you. This way.” 


^ CHAPTER XIII 


MILITARY INFORMATION 

T here were several alcoves opening into 
the underground room, small spaces hewn 
out of the solid rock, and now partitioned off by 
blankets and stringy curtains. Some of these 
were used for storage purposes, others for sleep- 
ing quarters, with cots and mattresses littered 
around in great disorder. 

When the unknown, but famous, editor of Bel- 
gium’s uncensored newspaper led the way to one 
of these alcoves. Bob followed, his curiosity 
greatly aroused by the other ’s words. What 
new surprise and mystery awaited him? There 
seemed to be no end to the adventure into which 
they had unwittingly plunged. 

A dim light was burning in the particular 
alcove before which the man stopped; and when 

he drew the curtain aside, the interior was clearly 
182 


MILITARY INFORMATION 


185 


revealed. The place was better furnished than 
the other parts of the gloomy dungeon, but not 
well enough to suggest luxury. There were a 
table and a couple of chairs, and a cot in one 
corner. 

Lying on this, with nothing but his face ex- 
posed to view, was a young man, whose pale, 
emaciated features told of great mental or phys- 
ical suffering. When the curtain was raised, the 
eyes of the invalid opened, burning with unex- 
pected brilliancy. 

‘‘Has the noise disturbed you, Gustave?” the 
editor asked, in a kindly voice. 

“No, Monsieur, I have slept, and feel better,” 
murmured the invalid. 

“That is well. Then I have good news to 
cheer you. I bring a friend.” 

“Ah, Monsieur, all your friends are my 
friends,” replied Gustave, extending a hand, but 
when he saw that Bob was only a boy, he smiled 
quizzically. 

“The future of our beloved country depends 
upon our young, Gustave. So do not under- 
value the boys who some day must take our 


184 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


places in the ranks. They have already shown 
themselves valiant defenders.’^ 

had a boy — not so old as he/’ the invalid 
murmured. ‘T hope he has escaped. But I do 
not know. I have been away so long — four 
years in German prisons and internment camps — 
four years of torture and suffering.” 

^‘Our friend here, Lieutenant Gustave Trans- 
quet, was among the valiant heroes who defended 
Liege,” the editor explained, turning to Bob. 
“He was wounded and captured, and carried to 
Germany. The rest speaks for itself. For 
nearly four years he suffered internment in 
camps vile enough to kill a dog. Starved, 
frozen, and insulted, he never lost his faith, and 
he has returned to his compatriots at the risk of 
his life.” 

Bob felt a thrill of excitement as he looked 
into the face of the lieutenant with admiration 
and sympathy. 

“I ’m glad you ’ve come back alive,” he said 
simply. “But how ’d you get here?” 

“By cutting my way out of a wire pen, over- 


MILITARY INFORMATION 


185 


powering two guards, hiding by day and travel- 
ing by night, was the succinct, smiling report. 

The boy’s eyes burned with enthusiasm, for 
in the brief statement was epitomized a whole 
series of adventures, some of which he might 
have to face under similar circumstances in the 
near future. 

^‘Were you wounded?” 

‘‘Three times — and half starved. But I got 
home, and found my way into the hands of my 
dear friends.” 

There was no question about his injuries, for 
his emaciated face and gaunt limbs spoke vol- 
umes. Bob’s sympathy was stirred. “You ’ll 
get better here,” he added. “I wish I could do 
something for you.” 

“You can, my boy,” interrupted the editor. 
“That ’s why I ’ve brought you here. Gustave is 
suffering from something worse than physical 
pain.” 

Bob turned inquiringly upon the speaker, a 
little puzzled by his words. The man smiled 
and continued: 


186 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

^‘It ’s super-patriotism/’ 

More puzzled than ever, the boy continued 
staring at him. 

‘We all have it more or less,’’ added the editor, 
“but Gustave has an exaggerated attack of it.” 

“Monsieur, this is not fair,” interrupted the 
patient. “You, who have given up all for your 
country, and risk your life daily, should not 
speak so of another who is simply willing to die 
for the glory of Belgium.” 

“I’m willing to live for it, Gustave, and that ’s 
what I want to do. Sometimes it takes more 
courage to live for a great cause than to die for 
it. That ’s why I call your disease super-pa- 
triotism.” 

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders and 
dropped back to an easier position on his couch, 
as if to say that he was through with argument. 

“I ’m afraid I ’ve bewildered you, my boy,” 
the editor added. “Gustave and I often argue 
on the points of one’s duty to his land. We 
don’t always agree. He feels that it is his duty" 
to go on, dragging his crippled legs the rest of 
the way across Belgium, offering his life as a 


MILITARY INFORMATION 187 

sacrifice to the needless. I tell him he has done 
his duty, and he should stay here and rest.” 

‘‘But the military information, Monsieur!” 
broke in the lieutenant in feverish excitement. 
“It will not keep.” 

“Wait, Gustave, I ’m coming to that.” Then 
addressing Bob again, he added: “In his four 
years in Germany, Gustave learned many things 
of great importance, information vital to the 
success of the Allies. In his flight across the 
border he picked up much more, details and facts 
of military preparation and design. If our be- 
loved king knew of them, and could pass them 
on to the Allies, it might change the whole course 
of the war. Gustave was on his way to the 
front with this information when he broke down 
and fell into our hands. He was eager to go on, 
but we detained him. It will be weeks, if not 
months, before he will be a well man again.” 

A glimmer of enlightenment began to filter 
through Bob’s brain. Gustave’s patriotism had 
become concentrated into an intense longing to 
finish his work if he gave his life at the ex- 
piration of it. 


188 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


‘‘This valuable information must be got 
through/’ continued the editor. “We Ve told 
Gustave we would see to it, but so far we have 
had no plan, and every day he works himself 
into a fever thinking of it.” 

Bob’s face suddenly broke into a smile. 
“And you want me to carry the information to 
the Allies?” he asked. 

“Yes, either directly, in person, or through 
your young Vigilantes.” 

“Monsieur!” shrieked Gustave, rising again. 
“Monsieur, you would trust my great secret to — 
to a boy? Incredible! No, no, I shall never 
permit it! I shall rise from a sick bed and go 
on! Nothing shall detain me! I, Lieutenant 
Gustave Transquet, swear it!” 

He threw the blanket from his gaunt body 
and made the attempt to carry his threat into ex- 
ecution; but a sudden giddiness overcame him, 
and he dropped back with a groan. 

“Gustave,” soothed the editor, “don’t give way 
to your emotion. Listen to what I have to say. 
The boys of Belgium have proved themselves 


MILITARY INFORMATION 


189 


worthy of their fathers. They have organized 
their forces, and are taking up the work that has 
been left undone. Our young friend here is half 
Belgian and half American.” 

“American!” exclaimed Gustave. 

Bob nodded. 

“Ah, the Americans saved Belgium from starv- 
ing,” the lieutenant said, grasping the boy’s 
hand again. “May they now save her from a 
worse fate. Is it true they ’re coming over by 
the millions? In Germany they laugh at it, and 
say the Americans are money-grabbers and cow- 
ards; that the U-boats are sinking the American 
ships so fast they can’t get across. Monsieur, 
here, says it is not true. I don’t know! I only 
know what they told me in Germany.” 

“No, it is not true,” replied Bob, eagerly. 
“The American soldiers are coming and will 
come until Germany is beaten.” 

“Ah, that is joyful news! Now I can die in 
peace!” 

“No, Gustave, live in peace,” interrupted the 
editor, smiling. “It ’s our duty to live for our 


190 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

country. Haven’t I told you that many times? 
Live to see Belgium redeemed and its tyrajits 
punished! ” 

‘‘Monsieur is right,” replied Gustave. “It is 
to live to see the glorious day when our be- 
loved king at the head of his army shall return 
to Brussels. Ah, that day will be worth liv- 
ing for. I shall not die I The Boches can’t kill 
me!” 

“No, but your wounds may,” remarked his 
friend gently. “Now quiet yourself and listen 
to me. Our young American here has something 
to tell you.” Then turning to Bob, he said, 
“tell him of the Boy Vigilantes, all that you told 
me.” 

Bob flushed a little, for it seemed like boasting 
of his own deeds, but the sick lieutenant watched 
him with eager eyes and nodded for him to be- 
gin. 

The repetition of his story produced passing 
emotions of joy, relief, and excitement on the 
lieutenant’s face, ending finally in a serious ex- 
pression of delight and admiration. 

''Vive la Belgique t” he exclaimed, waving a 


MILITARY INFORMATION 191 

hand; and then added, with equal enthusiasm, 
*'Vive les Vigilantes!'' 

Bob smiled at this tribute, and once more Bel- 
gium’s patriotic editor interposed. 

^‘Now, Gustave,” he said, “you understand 
why I proposed trusting your military informa- 
tion to the young Vigilantes. They will get it 
across if any one can. Our young friend and 
his cousin are planning to make the trip at once, 
to escape deportation to Germany. If they suc- 
ceed, they will give the information to our King. 
If they fail, it will go by some other boy. They 
will spread it by word of mouth until it has passed 
across the border. No written documents — noth- 
ing that the enemy can seize upon. If they are 
captured, they cannot be arrested as spies, simply 
as fugitive boys trying to evade the tyrant’s laws. 
Is it not well, Gustave, to use them as our mes- 
sengers?” 

The lieutenant was silent a moment, his eyes 
watching Bob’s face closely. Then a slow smile 
of satisfaction spread over his own face. He ex- 
tended a hand. 

“The Vigilantes can be trusted. They will 


192 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


finish the work that Gustave Transquet began.’’ 

will call our friends in to listen to his 
story,” whispered the editor. ^Tt is very inter- 
esting, and it should be heard so often that you 
cannot forget it. Gustave carries no papers. 
The information is here,” he added, pointing to 
his forehead. 

Bob waited until the man returned, accom- 
panied by Egmont and Guy. In a few words 
they were informed of what had taken place in 
the alcove. Gustave welcomed them wifli open 
arms, and greeted them as Vigilantes. 

‘T told them, Egmont,” Bob explained further 
to his cousin, ^fihat we intended to leave Brussels 
to escape deportation, and that we would carry 
any message to King Albert they wanted to send. 
Lieutenant Transquet has some valuable military 
information, and we must be his messengers.” 

‘‘Are we going to leave so soon. Bob?” Egmont 
asked anxiously. “Do you think it necessary?” 

“Yes, before the next batch of boys is rounded 
up for deportation, and that may come soon. 
Ask Mr. our friend, the editor.” 

Appealed to for confirmation of Bob’s words. 


MILITARY INFORMATION 


193 


the man nodded, and said: “It isn’t safe for 
either of you to stay another day in Brussels. If 
I had a boy of your age, I ’d send him away at 
once. It is better to take the risk of escaping 
across the border than to remain here.” 

Egmont was silent and troubled. He was 
thinking of his grandfather, the aged Count 
d’Anethan. How would he take the news? 
Was it not a boy’s duty to stay by the side of one 
so old and infirm in his great trials? He turned 
to his cousin. 

“Will grandfather want us to leave him. Bob?” 
he asked. “He ’s alone, you know.” 

“He ’d rather see us go of our own free will, 
with a chance of escaping, than to be dragged 
away from him to work in Germany,” replied 
Bob, stoutly. “That would nearly kill him, 
Egmont.” 

“Yes, I suppose it would. He ’s been dread- 
ing it for a long time, and — and — yes, yes, of 
course, it ’s the right thing to do! We ’ll go and 
carry the message.” 

“Spoken like your grandfather!” murmured 
the editor. “Count d’Anethan would be the last 


194. THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

one to remain behind if he was strong enough 
to fight. And Belgium to-day needs all its 
fighters, young and old.’^ 

“How about me, Bob?” Guy, who had re- 
mained quiet, asked. “Can I go, too?” 

“No,” said Bob, smiling, “you ’re too young 
for the Germans to deport, and besides you ’re 
needed here, Guy. We shall depend upon you 
and Leo Beeckmann and the others to keep the 
Vigilantes active. We must n’t let the work stop.” 

Guy sighed and looked longingly at the 
wounded lieutenant as if he was bemoaning the 
fact that he was so young. “I hate to stay be- 
hind,” he murmured. “I ’ll miss you and Eg- 
mon^ and — and — the adventures you ’ll meet.” 

Bob and his cousin laughed at the rueful ex- 
pression of the speaker. “If you can’t find ad- 
ventures enough right here in Brussels,” the 
former said, “I ’d like to know where you ’ll find 
them. You might capture a Germany sentry if 
things get too tame for you, Guy.” 

“I would n’t know what to do with him after 
I ’d caught him,” laughed the boy. “They ’re 
a nuisance, dead or alive.” 


MILITARY INFORMATION 


195 


“This old dungeon would hold a few of them,’^ 
Egmont added. “Why not try to fi.ll it with 
prisoners that you kidnap?’’ 

“It would n’t be a safe prison for them,” in- 
terrupted the editor, catching the spirit of their 
remarks. “My men would n’t do a bit of work 
for strafing them. No, you can’t have my print- 
ing shop for a German prison.” 

Gustave, who had been listening and smiling, 
suddenly clapped his hands and exclaimed: 

“It is like being home again to see the merry 
laugh and smile. It ’s so long since I ’ve heard 
it. Nothing but cries and moans and tales of 
woe — nothing but sorrow and suffering! Ah, it 
is good for the heart! Let me embrace you, my 
boys! I am young again — a boy myself. I 
could sing and dance again.” 

Then, with his eyes shining and his hands 
beating time, he began humming the last stanza 
of the national hymn: 

“O Belgique, 6 M^re cherie, 

A toi nos cceurs, h toi bras, 

A toi notre sang, 6 Patrie! 

Nous le jurons tours, tu vivras I 


196 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


Tu vivras tour jours grande et belle, 

Et ton invincible unite 
Aura pour devise immortelle 
Le Roi, la Loi, la Liberte!” 

Before they realized it the others were join- 
ing him, and from outside in the main room 
came an echo of the tune as the men at their work 
in getting out the paper took up the refrain. 


CHAPTER XIV 


PREPARING TO CROSS THE BORDER 

T he military information that Lieutenant 
Transquet had gathered in Germany con- 
sisted of valuable details of the internal condi- 
tions in the Hun army and of their intended 
campaign against the Allies. The whole outline 
of their contemplated massing at different points 
had been pieced together by the Belgian patriot. 
It had been obtained from various sources in 
ways that only a professional spy, or one who 
had become familiar with the German methods 
through long residence in different internment 
camps, could pursue successfully. 

In hiding by day, and listening at night; in 
robbing dead officers and soldiers of valuable 
papers; in secreting himself close to army head- 
quarters at the risk of discovery, and by utilizing 
every scrap of information picked up from peas- 
ant and soldier, from the wounded and the pris- 
197 


198 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


oners, he had managed to form an accurate idea 
of many of their exact plans for coming offensive 
and defensive tactics. 

For nearly two hours, he rehearsed these de- 
tails to the three boys, going over and over again 
the most vital parts of his story and making his 
listeners repeat his words until even he felt sat- 
isfied they had thoroughly grasped the informa- 
tion. There were to be no written instructions 
to carry — nothing that the enemy could seize in 
the event of capture, but he drew small maps and 
made the boys study them, and then re-draw them 
from memory. At the conclusion of the inter- 
view there seemed no possibility of mistake in 
transmitting the message. 

could repeat it word for word like a par- 
rot,’' Bob said, grinning, '‘and I could draw the 
maps in my sleep.” 

“I ’ll never forget them,” replied Egmont, 
more seriously. “I know them by heart as if 
engraved there.” 

“I know them, too,” added Guy, “but what 
good does it do me? I can’t carry them to the 
Belgian army.” 


PREPARING TO CROSS THE BORDER 199 


‘Tf Egmont and I are captured, Guy, you may 
have to,” replied Bob. “We ’re not so sure we 
can get through. 

“Well,” sighed his cousin, “we ’d better get 
back home now. Grandfather will be worried 
about us.” 

The boys took leave of their new friends in 
the subterranean dungeon and slowly made their 
way back to daylight. One of the men pre- 
ceded them to make a thorough investigation of 
the ruins before they ventured forth. With the 
coast clear, the boys scrambled out of the tunnel 
and climbed over the walls of the chateau and 
from there made their way back to the woods. 

It was then late in the afternoon. They had 
spent so many hours exploring the ruins and the 
dungeon that they had to hurry to reach home 
before dark. 

As they trudged along, they once more took 
on the character of three idle, aimless boys who 
had been off on a day’s tramp in the country. 
They avoided the German sentries as much as 
possible, and passed those they could not escape 
with apparent indifference. Once in the city. 


goo THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


they joined the throngs on the streets and boule- 
vards, and made a quick run home. 

On arriving at the Palais d’Anethan Bob and 
Egmont requested an interview with their grand- 
father, who received them in his library. The 
old count was feeble, but still held himself up- 
right. 

^‘Grandfather,’’ Egmont began, affectionately 
embracing him, “Bob and I think we ought to 
leave Belgium. Several times we have been held 
up and threatened with deportation to Germany. 
It may come at any hour. Bob and I can’t stay 
here in hiding until they search us out and drag 
us away. We ’d rather be — be caught in trying 
to get away.” 

Count d’Anethan nodded his head silently. 
The suggestion did not surprise him. He had 
been expecting it, with fear and dread, but he did 
not flinch before the crisis. 

“What have you planned to do?” he asked. 
“Make your way into Holland?” 

“No, we want to join King Albert’s army.” 

The eyes of the old man lighted up. “It ’s 
what I wanted to hear you say, Egmont,” he 


PREPARING TO CROSS THE BORDER 201 


replied. “Our beloved king needs the service 
of every one of his subjects. I have given all 
to him except my two dear grandchildren. Now 
I willingly give them.” The old count’s figure 
straightened and his eyes flashed. “If I with- 
held them, I should hang my head in shame! 
No, I am happy that they have the spirit to wish 
to serve.” 

He laid a hand on the shoulder of each. “Go, 
my children, and acquit yourself worthily,” he 
said solemnly. “Every day you are away from 
me I shall thank God that I am blessed with two 
such noble grandsons. If it is his will that you 
should make the ultimate sacrifice and that the 
last of the d’Anethans should expire on the field 
of battle, I shall glory in knowing they died 
in a supremely great cause. Go. Serve our 
God and our noble king 1 It is my last benedic- 
tion!” 

Egmont and Bob embraced him in silence, too 
much affected to speak. 

Then they began to plan for their flight. Far 
into the night the momentous question was dis- 
cussed. Finally, it was decided that they should 


202 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

go as ragged urchins, dressed in their poorest, 
with only sufficient money and food to carry 
them over the first few days. After that they 
would have to depend upon their wits and own 
resources. 

They studied the maps carefully, tracing not 
only the general course, but planned their differ- 
ent routes for each day. ‘‘With fair luck,” Bob 
mused, as he pored over the map, “we should 
reach Ghent in a couple of nights. Henri 
Rogiers should meet us there. We ought to tell 
him of our plans. Fle can give us better direc- 
tions about the roads on the other side of Ghent.” 

“Then where shall we go?” asked Egmont. 
“To Bruges?” 

“No, that would be in the enemy’s lines. We 
ought to strike nearly due west for Dixmude or 
Ypres by way of Deynze and Thielt.” 

“I don’t care to follow the railroad too 
closely,” murmured Egmont. “The open coun- 
try is safer.” 

‘I did n’t mean to stick to the railroads,” re- 
plied Bob, “but we ’ve got to have some guide. 
We can keep a few miles back of the railroad, 


PREPARING TO CROSS THE BORDER 203 


but close enough to know we ’re going in the 
right direction.” 

Count d’Anethan and Guy helped them in 
their plans, advising and criticizing each move. 
The result was a compromise between several 
routes. They would start in the direction of 
Ghent, avoiding that city, but skirting close 
enough to it to get into communication with some 
of the Vigilantes living there. After that their 
route would depend largely upon the information 
they could get from Henri or any of his friends. 

The start was to be made the following even- 
ing, the boys taking advantage of the darkness 
to slip out of Brussels and put a good many miles 
behind them before the light of another day. 
Between Brussels and Ghent, they would find a 
hiding-place in which to sleep and spend the 
day. 

They could not leave until they had said good- 
by to the Chokiers. Nothing had been heard of 
Charlotte and Jean since their escape, and they 
promised if they picked up any information on 
the way to have it transmitted back to them by 
the Boy Vigilantes. “Guy will get the news and 


S04 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


tell you,” Bob promised. “It may take several 
days, but don’t worry. Jean and Charlotte will 
get through. Every boy will help them.” 

Madame de Chokier bade them God-speed, 
embracing each in turn, while her husband like 
Count d’Anethan rested a hand lightly on their 
shoulders and said: “For God and your King! 
Belgium trusts you. I know you will prove 
worthy of her ! ” 

The next day there were many little things the 
boys had to attend to before they left on their 
dangerous trip. They summoned as many of the 
Boy Vigilantes as they could reach, and imparted 
to them the information they had received from 
the sick lieutenant. Then they bade farewell to 
each one in turn. 

“We may never see them again,” Egmont mur- 
mured, as they made their way home. “It seems 
like leaving everything, to explore new worlds.” 

“You take it too seriously, cousin,” replied 
Bob, smiling. “I’m sure we ’re going to come 
back, and with the Belgian army. On that day 
Brussels will be in holiday dress.” 

“Oh, yes, I want to be here then,” Egmont 


PREPARING TO CROSS THE BORDER 205 


exclaimed eagerly, his hopes suddenly aroused. 

They turned a corner and entered once more 
the familiar street on which they lived. It would 
perhaps be the last time they would play on it or 
see the sun set behind the gilded dome that rose 
like a watch-tower at the far end. A crowd had 
gathered in the middle of the block, and the two 
boys stopped to gaze at them. 

“What is it?’’ asked Egmont. 

“Don’t know — an accident maybe — or an ar- 
rest.” 

“There ’s a lot of German soldiers. I can see 
their uniforms.” 

“Where can’t you see them, for that matter?” 
queried Bob. “Oh, it ’s just some little dis- 
turbance! Come on home.” 

They proceeded rapidly, drawing nearer the 
crowd as they approached the Palais d’Anethan. 
Suddenly Bob stopped and stood stock-still. 
Egmont glanced up at him inquiringly. 

“Look, cousin,” he whispered, “they ’re arrest- 
ing some one. Hear the cries of the people. 
It ’s another one of the outrages of the Huns. 
See the soldiers jostling the crowd.” 


^06 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

^T wish I could do something,” growled 
Egmont, his blood boiling. ^‘Somebody arrested 
on a fake charge, I suppose. If I had a rifle — ” 

Bob clutched his arm and cut off his words. 
He was pointing with a trembling finger in the 
direction of the crowd. ‘^They he rounding up 
another batch of boys to take to Germany!” he 
whispered hoarsely. 

Egmont’s face turned pale, and his hands 
trembled. The reason for the crowd was ap- 
parent to both of them. The soldiers were 
searching every house on the street, taking a 
census of boys old enough to work, and corralling 
them in a bunch on one side of the street. While 
a company of soldiers with fixed bayonets 
guarded them, an officer and three others were 
making a house-to-house visit. The cries of the 
people could be heard a block away. 

Bob turned swiftly and glanced behind him. 
They could not reach their home without pass- 
ing the searchers. To attempt it in the face of 
the mob would be foolhardy. 

“We can’t go on,” he whispered. “We must 


PREPARING TO CROSS THE BORDER 207 


go back and hide somewhere until after dark. 
They may take us. They may be searching for 
us.” 

Egmont nodded his head, and whispered, 
^‘The Chokiers. We can go there.” 

‘^Yes, but we must hurry!” 

They wheeled and started to retrace their foot- 
steps, but to their surprise and horror they came 
face to face with another squad of soldiers, 
headed by a young officer. They had closed in 
behind them to guard that end of the street. 

For a moment they were too bewildered to act, 
and the amount of time they lost in their hesita- 
tion gave the soldiers the opportunity to advance 
upon them. When he saw them coming. Bob 
grew desperate. “Run for the nearest entrance,” 
he whispered, “and make for the roof!” 

He started to put his own advice into execu- 
tion, but the street suddenly seemed to be full of 
soldiers. Two darted out of the very doorway 
into which they were running, and two fixed bay- 
onets met their charge. So impetuous had been 
their run that they plunged within a foot of the 


208 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

point of the bayonets before they could check 
themselves. The soldiers growled a halt, and 
held them there. 

At that moment a young officer came out of 
the doorway near which they stood. ^^Do you 
live here?’’ he demanded, looking sharply at 
them. 

^^No,” replied Bob, facing the man unflinch- 
ingly. 

^‘Then why in such a hurry to enter?” the man 
asked. 

Neither Bob nor Egmont had a ready answer 
to this question. They could not give an ex- 
planation of their sudden eagerness to escape 
from the street. 

‘‘You live on this street, don’t you?” continued 
their interrogator. 

“Yes,” Bob acknowledged. 

The officer smiled and seemed well satisfied. 
“Then,” he said, “you will please march over 
there and wait orders.” 

He pointed to the group of boys of about their 
own age huddled in the middle of the block, sur- 
rounded by a guard of soldiers. 


PREPARING TO CROSS THE BORDER 209 


^‘What have we done that you should arrest 
us?’’ Bob asked boldly, although his heart was 
beating with dread, for he knew the meaning of 
the whole proceeding. “We have done nothing. 
You can’t arrest us.” 

The young officer smiled at him. “I asked 
you to step across the way and wait orders,” he 
replied quietly. “I did n’t say that you were un- 
der arrest.” 

“But I wish to go to my home,” Bob objected. 
“You have no right to detain me if I haven’t 
done anything wrong.” 

There was no direct reply to this. The of- 
ficer spoke to the soldiers, and they immediately 
advanced with fixed bayonets. It was either a 
question of obeying the order or being prodded 
by the bayonets. Bob and Egmont chose the 
former, and sullenly crossed the street ahead of 
the two soldiers. 

“They ’re going to deport us, Egmont,” Bob 
whispered to his cousin. “They ’re rounding up 
all the boys of age in our street. We ’re caught 
on the eve of our leaving. Why did n’t we go 
last night?” 


210 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


‘Tt may be they will let us off,’’ replied Eg- 
mont. “We ’re under fourteen.” 

“Yes, and look fifteen! ” was the scornful re- 
ply. “What do they care about our age if we ’re 
big enough to work for them. No, we ’re caught, 
and if we can’t escape we ’re bound for a trip to 
Germany.” 

“Then we must escape. Bob! We must!” 
cried Egmont, in a fierce little voice. “I shall 
never go to Germany! If I do I shall refuse to 
work for them! I ’ll starve first!” 

“I don’t intend to go either, cousin,” was the 
cool reply, “but just now we can’t escape without 
being shot or bayonetted. We ’ll have to submit, 
and wait our chance.” 

“They ’ll give us a chance to see grandfather 
and say good-by to him, won’t they?” asked Eg- 
mont, anxiously. 

“No, I don’t think so. That is n’t their way. 
They ’ll drag us off at once. They don’t like to 
be interfered with by parents and grandparents. 
Maybe it ’s just as well. It would only cause 
grandfather pain and sorrow to see us go. If 
he does n’t see us he may think we got wind of 


PREPARING TO CROSS THE BORDER 211 


the round-up, and escaped before it was too 
late. Yes, we ’ll let him think that. It ’s easier 
for him. It might kill him if he saw us carried 
off to Germany.” 

‘Tt would! I ’m sure it would!” replied Eg- 
mont, fervently. ‘‘We won’t make any fuss now, 
but later — ” 

“Yes— later!” 

Bob smiled grimly, but right down in his heart 
he was afraid that later would prove worse than 
the present. 


CHAPTER XV 


ON THE WAY TO GERMANY 

T here were nearly a score of boys sur- 
rounded by the guard of soldiers, some 
older and others younger than Bob and Egmont; 
but they were mostly strong, husky chaps, and 
not a few of them belonged to the Vigilantes. 
They recognized Bob and his cousin, and saw that 
they stood in the same peril as themselves. They 
apparently gave up all hope of release, becoming 
visibly depressed and down-hearted. 

Bob was anxious to keep up their spirits. It 
was a part of the creed of his organization. In- 
stead of showing the fear that clutched at his 
own heart, he smiled and nodded recognition of 
his companions as if the whole thing was in the 
nature of a lark. 

When the soldiers were not looking, he whis- 
pered quietly to those nearest him. “Don’t give 
212 


ON THE WAY TO GERMANY 213 

up hope, Vigilantes! Watch for a chance to 
escape. Don’t take risks, but keep your eyes 
open. If the opportunity comes we ’ll all make 
a break for liberty together. Then scatter, and 
make your way to Holland or France. Don’t 
more than two travel together. Hide in the day, 
and travel at night. Meanwhile, keep cheerful 
and watch for your chance.” 

These words of encouragement had an im- 
mediate effect on the prisoners, and gloomy faces 
suddenly brightened. When the last house of the 
street had been searched, and the last boy rounded 
up, the commander gave the order to march, and 
the procession moved forward. 

It was a sad procession, and the populace lin- 
ing both sides of the street wailed and moaned; 
but the prisoners looked quite cheerful and 
happy. They laughed and joked, and waved to 
their parents and friends. 

^Tt ’s only a little vacation! We ’ll come back 
soon! We’ll never go to Germany! Don’t 
worry about us! We can take care of ourselves. 
Vive la Belgique!” 

Then to the surprise of the soldiers, they broke 


214 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

out into Belgium’s national hymn, and the crowds 
following them caught the spirit and took up the 
refrain. The very echoes of the street were 
awakened by the inspiring voices as the beautiful 
hymn rolled defiantly from hundreds of throats. 

The German officer looked annoyed. He bit 
his lip, and tried to suppress the singing, but he 
might just as well have tried to stop the waves 
of the ocean from beating on the shore. The 
more he shouted and threatened, the more vocif- 
erous the singing grew, and even when some of 
the soldiers charged on the crowd they simply 
fell back and shouted: 

‘‘Vive la Belgique!” 

Finally, compelled to make the most of an 
unpleasant situation, the officer accepted the 
humiliation in silence and ordered the procession 
forward at quick step. 

Their destination proved to be a fine old 
mansion which the Germans used for military 
headquarters and a temporary prison. A cordon 
of soldiers was thrown around it and the 
windows were barred by iron gratings, so escape 
was out of the question. The windows, too. 


ON THE WAY TO GERMANY 215 


opened on a courtyard, where two sentries paced 
silently night and day, while a third guarded the 
entrance to it. All the prisoners were hustled 
into a large room, which had been the banquet- 
hall of the former owner, and were locked in. 
They were not overcrowded, so large was the 
room, but there were no beds or couches. The 
hard floor furnished all the sleeping accommoda- 
tions they could expect. 

When the door closed behind them, the spirit 
of defiance that had sustained the boys suddenly 
began to waver. Bob understood this. It was 
the natural reaction from their display of 
enthusiasm. Egmont drew his cousin to one of 
the windows and looked out. 

“Not much chance of escaping now,’^ he mur- 
mured in an undertone. “The windows are all 
barred.’’ 

“I had no intention of jumping from here,” re- 
plied Bob coolly. “But our time will come 
later.” 

“When?” 

Bob forced a laugh, and shrugged his 
shoulders. “We must n’t talk of it now,” he re- 


216 THE BOY VIGHLANTES OF BELGIUM 

plied. ‘T want to keep up the spirits of the 
others.’^ 

Bob turned and faced the prisoners. 

^‘How many of you are Vigilantes?’’ he asked 
in a quiet voice. “Raise your hands.” 

About half of them responded. The others 
looked blank and puzzled. They had never 
heard of the Vigilantes. 

“All right, Vigilantes,” he said, addressing 
those who had raised their hands, “Now we ’re 
going to initiate every one here who will take the 
oath. Each Vigilante explain to his nearest com- 
panion what the organization is. Then all who 
want to join can come in. We must stand to- 
gether, or we ’ll fall separately. Now, Egmont 
and Albert and Ernest, get busy ! ” 

He led the way by seizing the arm of the near- 
est boy who had not raised a hand, and began 
telling him the history and meaning of the 
Vigilantes. The others followed his advice, and 
in a few moments the room was a buzz of whis- 
perings. It was the greatest effort to recruit 
members they had ever dared undertake. Bob 


ON THE WAY TO GERMANY S17 


reasoned rightly that fear would stifle any who 
might ordinarily protest or show the white 
feather. They were all in danger of being de- 
ported, and if they were to escape, it had to be 
done through organized effort. 

At the end of half an hour Bob spoke to them 
all again, keeping his voice low so as not to 
attract the attention of the guard outside. ‘‘Now 
we ’ll take the oath,” he said. “All who wish to 
join, raise their hands.” 

Up went hands from every side. 

“ Those who do not care to join raise their 
hands now,” he added, after a pause. 

Not a hand went up. Bob smiled with satis- 
faction. 

“That ’s good! Now we understand one an- 
other. We ’re going to stick together and act as 
one when the moment comes. Now let each one 
step forward and take the oath separately.” 

It was not so impressive a ceremony as some 
they had witnessed, but it had an even deeper 
significance and solemnity that all the others 
lacked. Every face was seripus. Bob, sur- 


ns THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


rounded by those who had already been admitted 
as members, made each applicant hold up his 
right hand and repeat the oath after him. 
Then, tapping him on the right shoulder, he 
pronounced the words: 

greet you as a Boy Vigilante of Belgium. 
May you always prove true to your companions 
and to your country.’’ 

The other members in turn grasped the hands 
of each new comrade and gave him the secret 
grip. When this ceremony was over, Bob 
motioned for silence. 

“Now listen carefully,” he whispered. “No 
boy is to think of himself alone. We act to- 
gether. If there ’s a chance to escape, we must 
pass the word around, and all must take advan- 
tage of it. If the opportunity comes to regain 
our liberty we must scatter immediately, and then 
make for the Holland or French border, alone 
or in couples.” 

He paused for a minute, and then asked: 
“How many know the way? Those who are not 
familiar with the different routes should learn 
about them from those who know them. If you 


ON TEK WAY TO GERMANY 219 


get lost, give the countersign, Wigilantes,’ to any 
boy on the way. He may direct you.” 

There followed a long consultation and buzz 
of youthful voices as Egmont and Bob and the 
others who possessed the necessary information 
explained the different ways to reach the border. 

“When shall we get away?” eagerly asked one 
of the new members of the organization. 

“I don’t know,” replied Bob. “All depends 
upon the future. But if the time comes, I ’ll 
give the word. If I should whisper ‘Vigilantes,’ 
that will be the signal to break away — all at 
once! ” 

Now while Bob and Egmont had prepared the 
prisoners for general flight if the opportunity 
came, they both doubted very much if their work 
was not all in vain. Neither had any clear idea 
of any plan. Everything was vague and in- 
definite in their minds. Egmont in particular, 
was depressed and discouraged. 

“Had we any right to encourage them, Bob?” 
he asked when they were alone in a corner of 
the room. “There isn’t any chance of escap- 
ing.” 


220 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

“No, I afraid not,” murmured his cousin, 
“but no harm is done in cheering them up. It 
will do them good.” 

Bob, despite his efforts to cheer his compan- 
ions, was himself much depressed. He hardly 
slept a wink, and tossed restlessly on his hard 
bed. All through the night he lay awake, think- 
ing of the dreadful situation they were facing, 
and trying in vain to plan some method of es- 
caping before it was too late. 

Meanwhile silence brooded over the sleeping 
city. No sounds disturbed the quiet except the 
footsteps of the sentries. 

It was still dark when the guard opened the 
door and came in to awaken the prisoners. One 
by one they were aroused from the stupor of 
slumber. Why they should be disturbed in their 
sleep in the middle of the night was a mystery to 
them. But they had no choice except to obey the 
orders of their captors. 

They were formed in line and then marched 
out into the open air, flanked on both sides by 
soldiers. Through the silent, deserted streets of 
Brussels they tramped, until their destination 


ON THE WAY TO GERMANY 


suddenly dawned upon all. The Gare du Nord 
was directly ahead of them. 

“They ’re going to put us on the train be- 
fore it ’s light,” Bob whispered in dismay. 
“They don’t want to let the people see us go.” 

“Oh!” gasped his cousin in dismay. 

One by one the boys grasped the situation, 
and groans escaped their lips. They were to be 
deported under the cover of darkness. Before 
Brussels woke they would be well on their jour- 
ney toward Germany. A few gritted their teeth 
in silence, and others started to protest; but the 
soldiers were in no pleasant mood. They 
prodded the first one that uttered a cry, and 
threatened the others. 

“It ’s no use,” Bob whispered. “Better sub- 
mit in silence. If we go cheerfully it will throw 
them off their guard when the time comes.” 

They were halted before a box-car attached to 
the end of a long train, and ordered to enter it. 
The floor was strewn with musty straw, with no 
other signs of comfort visible. Bob once more 
set the example. He walked briskly across the 
gang-plank with Egmont close behind him. It 


THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


seemed that his boast that they could never deport 
him to Germany had been an idle one, and even 
Egmont began to lose faith in his leadership. 

“We ’ll never get out of here until we ’re in 
Germany,” the latter said ruefully, with a little ^ 
reproach in his voice. 

“I don’t know, cousin. But there ’s always 
hope so long as there ’s life. I must finish my 
nap.” 

Half an hour later the train started with a 
jolt. Every prisoner jumped to his feet, and ap- 
plied an eye to some crack or loophole in the sides 
of the car. They were anxious to get the last 
glimpse of their beloved city. Brussels was 
slowly fading away in the gray light of a new 
day. 

As the train started. Bob threw himself down 
in a corner and pretended to sleep; but he could 
hardly force his eyes to close. Events had 
moved too swiftly for him. Although he would 
not admit it to the others, he felt discouraged 
and a little frightened. Once outside of Brus- 
sels, their chances of escaping would diminish 
rapidly. It would not take many hours before 


ON THE WAY TO GERMANY 22S 

they would cross the border and enter Germany. 

The train was moving slowly, as if feeling its 
way cautiously through the semi-gloom of early 
morning. A heavy mist hung over the landscape, 
obscuring all objects more effectually than the 
darkness. Gradually the train increased its 
speed, and with it came a corresponding drop in 
Bob’s hopes. 

^‘Have you any plan. Bob?” Egmont whis- 
pered, crawling to his cousin’s side. 

^Tlan! Oh, yes, lots of them! But what 
good are they when you ’re locked in a box-car 
like a lot of sheep?” 

He spoke so bitterly that Egmont, instead of 
reproaching him, turned tender and sympathetic. 

“Never mind,” he whispered. “We ’ll hope 
for the best.” 

Bob gave his hand a grateful squeeze, and 
lapsed again into his silent brooding. The train 
stopped suddenly, and the heart of each boy 
fluttered with renewed hope; but it was quickly 
dispelled. The stop was apparently at a siding 
to let another train pass. Then it started again, 
and was soon rattling along so they could hear 


224 > THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


nothing but the clanking of loose chains and 
coupling bars. The wheels squeaked as if rusty 
and in need of grease. They were running at 
least twenty miles an hour, thirty perhaps, which 
in a short time would leave Brussels far in the 
rear. 

It was when their last hope seemed gone, and 
they were submitting to the inevitable, that a 
sudden grinding of brakes, followed by a series 
of violent joltings and a crash that knocked every 
one to his knees, half-stunned them. 

Before they could recover their senses, the box- 
car began a queer, acrobatic feat: the forward 
end reared up in the air and attempted to climb 
over the flat-car in front. Then, as if unable to 
accomplish this, it lurched sideways, and hung in 
mid-air for a second before it whirled over and 
began a plunge into space. 

It was a wreck ! It flashed across their minds 
in an instant — and a railroad wreck is always a 
terrible thing! It meant death and suffering to 
many. Pinned in their box-car, what chance had 
they to escape! 

The falling car came to a sudden stop a moment 


ON THE WAY TO GERMANY 

later with a crash that smashed in the sides and 
wrecked the roof. Bob got a bad blow on one 
arm, but otherwise he was unhurt. He looked 
up and saw daylight over him — their prison had 
been miraculously opened for them! With a 
realization of what this meant, he sprang to his 
feet. 

^WigilantesP’ he cried. “Now is the time! 
Scatter in all directions, and make for the bor- 
der!’’ 

At first his call was not answered, and a fear- 
ful shudder passed through him. Had they all 
been killed in the accident? A head was raised 
near him, then another and another. The 
prisoners had simply been stunned by the fall, 
and not killed. 

“Quick, get out before the guards come!” Bob 
urged. 

There was a simultaneous response to the call 
this time. Like rats escaping from a sinking 
ship, they crawled out of the ruins and disap- 
peared in the darkness. Some limped, but none 
seemed so badly injured that he could not run. 
As the last boy disappeared. Bob jumped out, just 


226 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


as the guards came running toward the rear of the 
train. There was no time to look for any of his 
companions. He simply ducked and ran for 


cover. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE ESCAPE 

T he accident had occurred on an embank- 
ment running through a swamp, and most 
of the cars had fallen to the bottom, where a 
small brook was so choked that its waters were 
already backing up and spreading in a minia- 
ture lake. As Bob sprang out of the derailed 
box-car he found himself after a few steps among 
the dark shadows of the swamp, which were made 
more impenetrable by the heavy mist. Pursuit 
was almost impossible. 

The guards and trainmen were so shaken by 
the accident that in their excitement they gave 
little thought to their youthful prisoners until it 
was too late. When they hurried to what had 
been the rear end of the train, they found nothing 
but, a demolished box-car with no one in it. 

By that time all the boys were safely hiding 

in the depths of the swamp. Bob had pushed 
227 


228 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


steadily on, the fear of pursuit warning him not 
to rest or look around. A mile or more from 
the wreck, he stopped long enough to get his 
breath. The thickets were so dense that conceal- 
ment was easy. 

‘T ’m safe for the present,’^ he murmured; 
‘‘and I guess the others are, too. I wonder which 
way Egmont went.” 

He had been disappointed in not finding his 
cousin waiting for him when he left the wreck, 
but he remembered that the order had been to 
scatter if the opportunity came for escape. Per- 
haps one of the others had gone with Egmont, 
and the two would travel together toward the 
border. Bob hoped so, but nevertheless he felt 
a little lonely and wished his cousin had v^ited 
for him. 

“They can’t find us in this swamp,” he mused, 
“not unless they have bloodhounds.” 

But Bob knew that the Germans could be very 
thorough in their search if they wanted to find 
escaped prisoners. And he began to doubt if it 
was the safest place, after all. “They will take 
it for granted we ’ll hide in the swamp,” he 


THE ESCAPE 


2S9 


reasoned, ^‘and look for us there first. The 
safest plan is to get out of it on the opposite side, 
and find other shelter.” 

When he had reached this conclusion, he cau- 
tiously resumed his journey, and by daybreak 
came out on the farther side of the swamp. A 
farm-house was a short distance away, and near 
by was a field of ripening grain. This seemed 
to offer him the safest refuge for the day that was 
upon him. 

He began crawling through the waving field 
of grain, stopping to conceal his tracks every 
yard, and replacing the stalks he had knocked 
down. He could not be too careful in this re- 
spect, for any soldier sent to watch that side of 
the swamp would naturally look for tracks. 

He made his way to the very center of the field, 
and there threw himself down to rest. He was 
both hungry and thirsty, with neither food nor 
drink to be had. His thirst had been slaked 
before he left the swamp brook behind him, but 
the long crawl through the field of grain had 
overheated him, and his lips were dry and 
parched again. 


230 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


Fortunately, the young wheat had headed out 
enough to furnish some nourishment and Bob 
began eating the grains with genuine relish. 
They seemed partially to satisfy both his hunger 
and his thirst. 

After a while he pulled his cap over his eyes to 
shield them from the sun, and fell asleep. His 
intention was to take a short nap, but nature was 
far more exhausted than he realized. He slept on 
and on. The sun rose to the noon meridian, but 
fanned by a gentle breeze, he was quite comfort- 
able and was not awakened by the hot rays. The 
birds warbled and chirped above him, and a few 
inquisitive ones flew down close to him and 
shrilled loudly as if resenting his appearance in 
such a place. 

Bob heard nothing of the common noises of 
the day; the crowing of a cock, the mellow low- 
ing of a cow, the distant bark of a dog, and 
the shouts of farmers as they worked in their 
fields. 

It was nearly sunset when he finally woke with 
a start, and sat up in bewildered surprise. It 
took him a long while to gather his scattered wits 


THE ESCAPE 


231 


and recall the series of events that had led up to 
his present situation. 

“Oh, I remember now!” he exclaimed finally. 
“I’m near the swamp where the train was 
wrecked. Well, nobody ’s found me. And 
night ’s nearly here 1 I must put a good many 
miles behind me before morning.” 

He dropped back and stretched himself, and 
once more helped himself to a meal. When he 
had chewed enough wheat to satisfy his imme- 
diate hunger, he filled his pockets with the raw 
grain. By that time the sun was down, and 
twilight was spreading over the land. “I must 
begin the real trip to the front now,” he said, 
rising to his feet. “I Ve got to skirt around 
Brussels to get on the other side of it. That will 
make the trip a few miles longer.” 

The train had carried him in the opposite di- 
rection from his destination, and he figured it 
would take the whole night to get around to where 
he and Egmont had expected to start on their trip 
to the western front. Taking the setting sun as 
his guide, and after that a particular star, which 
he located in the heavens, he began traveling 


^32 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


northwest, first skirting the swamp until he came 
out upon the railroad, and then crossing this he 
followed a small country road that led in the di- 
rection of Strombeek. 

The train had been on the way to Louvain, and 
there was another railroad running to Malines 
which he would have to cross before he came to 
the canal. Once across both railroad and canal, 
he felt safer and reasonably sure of his direction. 
Bob was quite familiar with the country, for he 
had ridden over the roads many times in his 
grandfather’s car, and even in the dark he recog- 
nized landmarks and signs. 

He trudged along doggedly, making good time 
in the early part of the night, but as time wore 
on he began to grow faint and tired. He was 
desperately hungry despite the wheat he chewed 
on his way. Somewhere in the middle of the 
night, he rested and almost fell asleep by the road- 
side. 

‘T must n’t do that,” he said, checking himself, 
must keep awake until morning. Then I ’ll 
sleep all day long.” 

But the problem that was concerning him was 


THE ESCAPE 


2S3 


to find something to eat and then a safe hiding- 
place for the day. Each night this problem 
would face him anew, for as morning dawned 
he had to creep away and conceal himself. 

‘Tf I could find a barn, I might hide in it,” he 
reflected. But the thought of stray dogs and 
chickens bothered him. They might give the 
alarm and lead to his detection. ‘‘No, I ’d be 
safer in the woods,” he added. But it was not 
always possible to find woods and swamps to hide 
in on his long journey, and in the end he decided 
to leave each morning’s problem to solve itself. 
“What ’s the use of worrying about it!” he said, 
smiling, “I ’ll cross each bridge when I get to it.” 

Day was again breaking when he finally came 
to a farm-house off by itself. In the dusk of 
early dawn it had a pleasant, homelike look. It 
made Bob feel lonely and homesick. While the 
owner of it and his family had slept peacefully 
through the night, and would soon be rising to 
begin the day’s work, he, like a criminal, had 
been traveling all through the dark hours and now 
had to slink away and hide from the light of the 
sun. It made him a bit peevish and cross. 


THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


‘‘They 11 have a warm breakfast, too,” he 
muttered, “and I ’ll have nothing but raw 
wheat.” 

He placed a hand to his stomach. It was so 
empty that it seemed to cave in. His clothes were 
wet and muddy, and altogether he presented a 
forlorn appearance, and felt just as he looked. 
He was dog-tired, so weary that he could drop 
down in his tracks and stay there for hours. 

“I can’t sleep unless I have something to eat,” 
he added. “I’m just about starving.” 

Unconsciously he approached nearer the farm- 
house, hunger urging him on. No one seemed to 
be up yet. If the people knew how starved and 
tired he was, they would surely help him. Would 
it be risky to apply for food and a chance to 
sleep in the barn? No true Belgian would be- 
tray a boy who had escaped the clutches of the 
Germans. 

Then another thought came to him. If he was 
assisted by the family, the Germans would punish 
them for harboring an escaped fugitive. Hun- 
dreds of Belgians had been imprisoned, and some 
shot, for this humane crime. 


THE ESCAPE 


^5 


“No, I ’ll not get anybody in trouble,” he said 
resolutely, facing about to return to the woods 
across the field. “Some German spy might hear 
of it.” 

He had nearly reached the barn before his 
resolution had taken form in his mind, and with- 
out danger of discovery he could make a run for 
it and hide there until night. He was on the 
point of doing this when he was startled by a 
voice directly behind him, saying: 

“What do you want here?” 

Bob wheeled around ready to run if escape was 
possible. But the owner of the voice was not a 
German soldier, as he feared, but a poorly clad 
farmer-boy a year or two younger than himself. 

“What do you want here?” the boy repeated, 
watching him closely. 

Bob’s face relaxed, and he tried to smile, but 
made rather a poor attempt at it. 

“Nothing,” he answered, shrugging his shoul- 
ders. “Can you tell me which direction to take 
for Strombeek?” 

“Yes, you ’ll find the road across the fields,” the 
boy replied, pointing in the direction. Then 


236 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


looking suspiciously at his tom and muddy 
clothes, he asked, “Have you been traveling all 
night 

Bob nodded. “Yes, and I ’m dead tired.'' 

“It is n't far to Strombeek, if that 's where 
you 're going." 

Bob laughed a little nervously. “I don't know 
whether I 'm going there or not," he said un- 
thinkingly. “The fact is, I don't think I 've got 
strength enough. I believe I 'll look around for 
a resting-place and sleep for a while." 

The other's face broke into a smile. “I 
thought so," he said, wagging his head. “You 
were going to hide in the barn." 

“Perhaps I was," replied Bob, good-naturedly. 
“But, I would leave everything as I found it." 

He took a handful of the raw grain from his 
pocket and held it out in his palm. “See," he 
said, “this is my breakfast." 

“You 're hungry! " ejaculated the boy. 

“Who is n't, in Belgium?" was the retort. 

An expression of sadness swept across the 
other's face. 

“Yes, I know," he replied. “But," his face 


THE ESCAPE 


237 


lighting up with sympathy, “maybe I can get some 
bread for you, and some fruit. Come in the bam 
and wait.’’ 

Bob was so grateful for this promised assist- 
ance that he grasped one of the boy’s hands, and 
said: 

“I don’t want to take the food away from your 
mother if she needs it, but — I feel as if I was 
nearly starved.” 

“But first tell me one thing,” the boy inter- 
rupted, holding his hand, “did you ever hear of 
the Boy Vigilantes?” 

Bob’s heart almost leaped into his mouth at this 
surprising question. He had never once thought 
to use the magic word that he had cautioned the 
other members to employ whenever they met a 
Belgian boy, and here one was challenging him. 

“Vigilantes!” he exclaimed. “Are you one of 
them? Then — then — ” 

He gave the boy the secret grip, and nearly 
shouted for joy when it was returned. Here was 
an unexpected friend where he had least expected 
to find one. 

“I thought you were one,” the boy said. 


238 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


‘‘You ’re the third one that has passed this way. 
I gave them food, but they did n’t stop here.” 

“The third one — ” stammered Bob. 

“Yes, they escaped from the smash-up on the 
railroad. They were being taken to Germany — ” 

The meaning of the boy’s words suddenly 
dawned upon Bob. Others of the escaped pris- 
oners had found their way to the farm-house, 
and the boy had lived up to his oath to render 
aid and comfort to all fellow Vigilantes. The 
organization which Bob had been instrumental in 
forming had thus once more been of value to those 
in need. 

“Tell me about them,” he urged. “What 
did they look like? Was one of them tall and 
dark, with blue eyes?” 

“First come into the barn. I can tell you 
everything there. Somebody might see us, now 
that it ’s getting light.” 

Bob followed him, and for several minutes 
he forgot his weariness and hunger in listening to 
the boy’s description of the different fugitives he 
had aided. In the midst of it Bob broke out 


THE ESCAPE ^39 

jubilantly; ^^That ’s my cousin, Egmont d’ 
Anethan ! ” 

^^Count d’ Anethan’s grandson?” the boy asked, 
his eyes widening in surprise. 

‘^Yes, and I ’m another — his American grand- 
son!” Bob laughed. 

The boy was so impressed by having helped 
a member of a family so well-known in Belgium 
that he was unable to speak for a minute, and he 
was aroused from his stupor only when Bob 
added : 

shall never forget this — neither will Eg- 
mont. When this war ’s over we ’ll meet you 
again if you ’ll tell me your name.” 

‘^Gaston Thaux.” 

^Well, Gaston, I ’ll owe you for a day’s lodg- 
ings, and — and — ” 

^'Oh, I forgot! You ’re hungry. I ’ll be back 
at once.” 

He bolted through the barn door leaving Bob 
alone to contemplate his good luck in finding a 
safe hiding-place and a breakfast. 


CHAPTER XVII 


CAUGHT IN A GERMAN TRAP 

G aston THAUX proved a good provider, 
and he watched with eager eyes as Bob 
stowed away a substantial breakfast. Then he 
left him, promising to return toward night with 
his supper. 

When Bob awoke it was beginning to grow 
dark, and Gaston was standing over him. 

^Why — have I slept all day?” Bob murmured, 
rubbing his eyes. 

^‘Yes, it is night. Here ’s your supper.” 

While he ate this. Bob talked with Gaston, 
and learned much from him of the roads and 
by-paths across the country. He wished to avoid 
towns and villages, and Gaston mapped out a 
route by which he could go around Strombeek 
and reach Alost without loss of time. 

^‘At Alost the Boches are on the lookout,” the 

240 


CAUGHT IN A GERMAN TRAP 241 


boy warned. ^‘They are many. Keep away 
from there.’’ 

Bob thanked him for all he had done for him, 
and promised to follow his directions. The boy 
accompanied him a few miles on his way to see 
that he understood the route. When the time 
came to separate, Bob turned to him. 

^‘Gaston,” he said, ‘T shall always remember 
you. Some day this cruel war will be over, and 
then the Boy Vigilantes of Belgium will have a 
great meeting. The world will know how much 
the boys of Belgium have done for their country. 
Back in America we have an organization called, 
the Boy Scouts. They have never been called 
upon to face a crisis such as this, but if they ever 
are, they can’t do more than our Vigilantes. I 
shall report to them when I get back to America 
what Belgian boys have done. They will be 
eager to hear about it, and send fraternal greet- 
ings.” 

should like to meet the Boy Scouts of Amer- 
ica,” replied Gaston eagerly. ‘Tell them Gaston 
loves his country, and is ready to die for it.” 

Bob turned and trudged on alone, keeping 


24S THE BOY VIGH^ANTES OF BELGIUM 


strictly to the route described by his friend. It 
was not a dark night, and with the aid of the 
moon he made rapid progress, following the 
country roads and skirting the villages in short 
cuts across fields and woods. 

The element of adventure made his progress 
somewhat exciting. At one time he stumbled 
upon a party of men approaching from the oppo- 
site direction, and barely had time to duck in 
the bushes to escape detection. At another place 
he nearly ran straight into a German sentry, 
stationed at a cross-roads. Once he lost his way, 
and nearly strayed into the heart of Strombeek, 
losing thereby nearly an hour in time. 

He crossed a railroad leading north from 
Brussels, and then, with clear, open country 
ahead, he made more rapid progress. 

The only thing lacking to make his journey full 
of interest and delight was the absence of Egmont. 
They had planned the trip across Belgium to the 
western front together, and their separation had 
been a sore disappointment. Still, the fact that 
his cousin has passed along the same route ahead 
of him brought some relief to Bob’s mind, and he 


CAUGHT IN A GERMAN TRAP 248 


pushed on steadily, hoping sooner or later to find 
Egmont. 

When he crossed the second railroad, he came 
to a wood that offered him shelter for the coming 
day. It was getting well on toward morning, and 
he would have to be on the lookout for a hiding- 
place before it got light. Tramping through the 
woods to the opposite side, he found himself un- 
expectedly at the edge of a stream of water of con- 
siderable depth and some two hundred feet wide. 
Gaston had told him of this stream, and had 
warned him that it was too deep to wade across. 

“I ’ll have to swim it,” he mused, sitting down 
on the bank. 

He was both cold and tired, and the thought 
of finishing his night’s work with a hard swim 
in the icy-cold water did not appeal to him. “I ’ll 
wait until another night before crossing,” he 
added, shivering at the very thought of plunging 
into the stream. 

On the opposite embankment the wooded shore 
stretched back in a high bluff. There would be 
equally good hiding-places there. He glanced 
back of him, and then across once more. 


244 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


“Egmont would go on/’ he reasoned, ‘‘and I 
ought to do the same. It will be an hour yet 
before daylight.” 

He rose from his seat and waded out into the 
stream. A few yards from the shore the water 
was up to his waist. After that the bottom 
dipped sharply downward. A few more steps 
would carry him over his head. 

He splashed the water over his face and head, 
and then without warning, a sharp challenging 
command directly back of him sent the blood rac- 
ing through his veins. He knew that guttural 
challenge — some German sentry had either seen 
him or heard his splashing. 

Bob remained perfectly still, his eyes watching 
the shore back of him. A light flashed in the 
bushes, and again the challenge came. Had he 
been seen? Unable to answer this question, he 
ducked down and waited. The crashing of foot- 
steps through the bushes told Bob that his enemy 
was approaching. In a few moments it would 
be too late to act. Either he had to surrender, or 
make a break for liberty at once. 

Bob chose the latter course. Taking the chance 


CAUGHT IN A GERMAN TRAP 245 


that the soldier had not seen him yet, but had been 
attracted by the noise he had made, he settled 
down in the water and began swimming silently 
toward midstream. 

There was the danger that the clearer light on 
the surface of the river would expose him to view, 
and to lessen this he kept his head well down, 
submerging completely at times, and swimming 
under water. When he came to the surface after 
one of these prolonged dives, he was startled by 
a flash behind him and the crashing of a rifle. 
The bullet did not strike anyv/here near him, 
but Bob immediately ducked again and swam 
under water until he could no longer hold his 
breath. 

When he came to the surface, he found the 
opposite shore within a few yards of him. He 
had crossed the stream, and the shadows of the 
bank ahead were already shielding him from 
view. 

But his escape from the sentry did not mean 
he was out of danger. The report of the rifle 
would, perhaps, summon help and arouse sentries 
on both sides of the river, so when his feet touched 


ue THE BOY VIGH^ANTES OF BELGIUM 


bottom, Bob waded ashore with the utmost cau- 
tion. 

Everything was quiet on both sides of the 
stream, and Bob took fresh courage at his miracu- 
lous escape. He began wading shoreward faster, 
and had reached dry ground, when suddenly a 
German soldier stepped out of the bushes with 
fixed bayonet. 

He was grinning at the little ruse he had prac- 
tised. Apparently he had been watching the 
swimmer all the time, and instead of shooting at 
him had waited for his prisoner to walk into the 
trap he had set for him. Bob^s heart gave a great 
bound, but in response to the command of the 
sentry his hands went up over his head in token 
of surrender. 

It was a bitter situation for the boy. After all 
his efforts, he had run straight into the enemy’s 
hands. He had not been sc clever as he thought. 
The Boches had outwitted him. This thought 
angered and disgusted Bob, and the hot blood of 
mortification sprang into his cheeks. 

He advanced silently toward the sentry who 
seemed to be alone on the edge of the stream. 


CAUGHT IN A GERMAN TRAP m 

If there were other German soldiers in the vi- 
cinity, they kept well in the background and very 
quiet. This, Bob knew, was an impossibility. 
The German soldiers are too companionable and 
too inclined to exult over a capture for another 
to remain quiet when a friend has scored a 
success. 

It was not yet day, and the shadows obscured 
the opposite shore. Bob noted that the bushes 
were thick all around him, and back of them the 
big woods sloped up to the bluff. With half a 
chance he could get into the woods and hide until 
another night. 

Discovering that his prisoner was a half-grown 
boy, the German sentry relaxed some of his vigil- 
ance. He grinned, and playfully prodded Bob 
in the ribs with the point of his bayonet. “Where 
you going in the dark?” he asked in German. 
“Swimming rivers at night is verboten.^^ 

Bob made no reply. To all appearances he 
was too frightened to speak. He certainly made 
a ludicrous appearance, with the water dripping 
from his wet clothes. He shivered, too, partly 
from th^ cold and partly from fear. 


248 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

“Little river rat, ain’t you?” the sentry added. 
“Very cold bathing at night.” 

He chuckled at his own words. His rifle came 
down to the ground, the butt of it resting on the 
soft earth. He raised a hand to wipe his fore- 
head. Bob noticed that the hand holding the rifle 
had relaxed. A smart blow would knock it away. 
Could he do it, and then, before the soldier could 
recover his fallen weapon, escape into the bushes? 

The thought had scarcely taken possession of 
the boy’s mind before he put it into execution. 
Taking the soldier entirely by surprise, he swept 
one hand downward, and with a quick, violent 
push he sent the rifle spinning from its owner. 
The German made an ineffectual grab for it, 
missed it, and with an oath began searching for 
it in the darkness. 

But by that time Bob was a dozen feet away 
racing for the shelter of the bushes with the speed 
and agility of a deer. He leaped the first clump 
of bushes, dodged around the next, and then be- 
gan an amazing zigzag course through the others. 
The shot from the rifle, which he knew would 
come at any moment, had to be guarded against. 


CAUGHT IN A GERMAN TRAP 249 


When it did come, breaking the stillness of the 
gray morning, Bob was nowhere near the place 
where the bullet plowed its way. He was far to 
the right. With more caution than speed, now, he 
wormed his way deeper into the thicket, hoping to 
gain the woods before the German could locate 
him. 

Apparently the sentry was depending more upon 
luck in hitting his quarry than in spying him with 
his eyes, for he began shooting into the bushes 
at random, awakening the echoes of the place 
with his fusillade of shots. Bob, meanwhile, 
was safely climbing the bluff, and once in the big 
woods he kept the trunks of trees between him and 
the sentry. 

There were scurrying footsteps along the river 
front, and the shouts of many soldiers who had 
been aroused by the alarm. With a safe distance 
between him and his pursuers. Bob now forgot all 
caution, and ran and dodged along recklessly. 
Time was important. He had to place a long 
distance between him and the river. 

The men would naturally search the bushes on 
the river front first, wasting a lot of valuable 


250 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


time. Driving his strength to the limit, he kept on 
until he had covered at least a couple of miles. 
Then suddenly the woods came to an end. Be- 
yond stretched fertile fields with not a sign of a 
good hiding-place in sight. 

^Tf I stay in the woods, they ’ll hunt me out 
before night,” he reasoned. “And if I go on I ’m 
sure to be seen.” 

He was placed in a quandary, and stood irreso- 
lute for several minutes. It was getting lighter 
every minute. The wood was not a safe place for 
him. The Germans would search every square 
foot of it before night, and unless he knew of some 
unusual hiding-place he was sure to be caught. 

A hundred yards from the edge of the woods 
he saw a stone building. It looked like the ruins 
of an old house, and the big trees surrounding it 
cast deep shadows over it. Bob decided it might 
offer a safer hiding-place than the woods. 

Looking around, to make sure no eyes were 
watching, he made a dash for it, crouching low 
and picking his way carefully. With a sigh of 
relief, he reached the nearest tree without mishap. 
He stood a moment under it to get his breath and 


CAUGHT IN A GERMAN TRAP 251 


make observations. There was no one in sight. 

But if there was no one following him from 
the woods, he was not so fortunate in other re- 
spects. The battered door of the stone house 
suddenly opened, and Bob, to his dismay and 
terror, saw a uniformed German soldier standing 
in the entrance, gazing in the direction of the 
woods. He made some remark, and was an- 
swered by another voice inside. 

Bob trembled like a leaf, and crouched close to 
the big trunk of the tree. Nothing but this 
friendly shelter stood between him and capture. 
It seemed to his vivid imagination that his body 
trembled so that it shook the branches of the tree. 
He gulped and swallowed, for fear his presence 
had already been discovered. 

Finally the waiting German muttered some- 
thing under his breath, and strode out of the 
house, closing the door behind him. He walked 
straight for the woods, as if expecting to meet 
some one. Bob watched him until he was nearly 
out of sight. 

Now was his time, before the soldier returned. 
But which way could he go? There was another 


252 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


man in the house, and the first one had a full view 
of the open fields beyond. He could not cross 
them or return to the woods without exposing 
himself. In his quandary, Bob happened to 
glance upward. The great spreading branches 
of the tree behind which he stood were dense with 
foliage. 

‘Tt ’s my only hope,” the boy breathed, as he 
measured the distance between the ground and the 
thick branches overhead. 

He began climbing the trunk of the tree, work- 
ing his way upward slowly and cautiously. 
Any unnecessary shaking of the tree might alarm 
the soldier inside the house. When he reached 
the first branch, he stopped to get breath and to 
listen. Evidently he had not been heard. 

After that it was comparatively easy for him 
to climb from branch to branch, and when he 
reached the protection of the thicker leafage, he 
gave a sigh of relief. To make his concealment 
perfect, he climbed still higher, until there was a 
dense screen of leaves between him and the 
ground. Directly beneath him was the stone 
house, part of the roof of which had caved in. 


CAUGHT IN A GERMAN TRAP 25S 


Bob could see right through this into the interior. 

The second German was sprawled out on a 
rude bed made of an army blanket spread over 
a bunch of straw. Apparently he had not yet 
finished his sleep, for he was snoring rhythmi- 
cally. Bob could have dropped a stone on his 
upturned face, and the thought of the sleeper’s 
astonishment at such a surprise amused him so 
that he smiled in spite of his weariness and 
fright. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


BROKEN BONDS 

B ob, crouching among the branches of the 
tree where he could look directly down 
at the sleeping soldier, began to feel safer than 
at any time since he had escaped the sentry on 
the river front. The century-old tree had mam- 
moth branches and thick foliage. No one 
from below could see him, while he had the 
advantage of peering through the interlacing 
boughs without uncovering his position. 

After a while the German who had gone to 
the woods returned, and in a loud, noisy voice 
routed his sleeping companion from his bed. 
The old stone house was apparently occupied by 
the sentries who had that section of the country 
under surveillance. There were two of them to 
take turns in doing guard duty. 

Bob watched them prepare their morning meal 
and eat it with great gusto. This recalled to the 

254 


BROKEN BONDS 


255 


boy that he was still waiting for his own break- 
fast, which, judging from the outlook, would be 
a long time in coming. 

He was also extremely tired and weary, but 
the thought of falling asleep in the tree and los- 
ing his balance kept him wide awake. There 
was certainly no rest or sleep for him that day — 
not unless both of the soldiers left the house to- 
gether. 

The second sentry walked away to the woods, 
finally, and the first one took his turn resting. 
Bob watched him with anxious eyes. All sorts 
of schemes entered his head. Would it be safe 
to descend and make a run across the open fields ? 
Or was the risk too great? 

“No, I ’ll have to stay up here until dark,” he 
decided finally. 

The prospect of clinging to his perch all day 
without food or sleep was not inviting. The 
drowsy feeling that crept over him had to be 
fought back with will power. His growing 
hunger and thirst helped him in the struggle to 
keep awake. One could n’t sleep peacefully with 
hunger gnawing at his stomach. 


S56 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

The minutes and hours passed slowly, and 
still the sentry below slept on, while his com- 
panion paced his beat near the edge of the woods. 
As the sun rose it grew hotter, making Bob’s 
perch still more uncomfortable. Distant shouts 
in the woods, and, once or twice, the crash of a 
gun told him that the search was still in progress, 
and that the woods were being systematically 
beaten. 

Bob settled himself in a crotch between two 
big limbs and tried to make himself as comfort- 
able as possible. With a rope he might have tied 
himself to the tree, so that, if he dropped asleep, 
he could not fall to the ground ; but he had noth- 
ing that would answer this purpose. With arms 
flung around the biggest limb, he did manage 
to forget himself for a few minutes. When he 
woke with a start, his head and body were sagging 
at a dangerous angle. 

^T mustn’t do that again,” he muttered, re- 
gaining his balance. 

Toward noon there was a sudden commotion 
in the woods. A sharp fusillade of rifle-shots, 
followed by shouts and calls, indicated some- 


BROKEN BONDS 


257 


thing unusual. Wondering what it could all 
mean, Bob waited and listened. A few minutes 
later tramping feet warned him that his enemies 
were approaching the house. 

Concealed among the branches, he waited and 
listened. The guard on duty near the woods was 
returning, accompanied by others. Bob could 
not see them until they were almost directly 
beneath him. 

Then his heart gave a bound, and he almost 
dropped out of the tree. Three German soldiers 
stood there, and in their midst was a prisoner. 
Bob gave one glance, and exclaimed under his 
breath : 

‘^Egmont! They’ve caught him!” 

His cousin was wet and muddy, with his 
clothes torn and his hands and face scratched 
with the briers and twigs of the woods. The 
shouts and rifle-reports were explained — in 
searching for Bob they had stumbled upon Eg- 
mont, who had been hiding in the woods also. 

Bob had a bad half hour. He felt in a 
measure responsible for his cousin’s capture. If 
he had not been so careless in attracting the at- 


258 THE BOY VIGH^ANTES OF BELGIUM 


tention of the sentry patroling the opposite side of 
the river, the drag-net search of the woods that 
had caught Egmont would never have been made. 

His cousin was silent and dejected. He ap- 
peared thoroughly discouraged, and Bob’s heart 
went out in sympathy to him. To be caught 
after making such a successful escape was enough 
to depress any one. 

Bob’s next thought was of the others. Was 
the woods being used as a hiding-place for more 
of the Vigilantes, or had they scattered and spread 
over the country? He waited anxiously, expect- 
ing to hear more shots and the capture of other 
prisoners. 

The soldiers took their young prisoner into 
the old building, where they proceeded to tie his 
hands and feet — they were not going to take any 
chances of his running away. The sleeping 
sentry, meanwhile, woke up and listened to the 
story of the capture. 

The boy seemed to be too tired and exhausted 
to pay any attention to his captors. He dropped 
down on the floor and was soon either fast asleep 
or feigning slumber. Bob concluded that his 


BROKEN BONDS 


259 


cousin was simply tired out and glad to rest — 
an opportunity that he envied him, for his own 
limbs and body were aching and his eyes were 
heavy from lack of sleep. 

With their prisoner secured, the soldiers who 
had captured him left the building, the two 
sentries accompanying them half-way to the 
woods. Bob waited until they were at a safe 
distance, and then, breaking off a twig, he 
dropped it through the open roof. It fell close 
to his cousin’s side, but Egmont did not even open 
his eyes. Another landed on his body, but with 
no better effect. A third and fourth followed 
with the same results ; but the fifth landed directly 
on Egmont’s nose. He woke with a start, sat up- 
right, and looked stupidly around him. 

Bob glanced in the direction of the woods. 
The soldiers were a considerable distance away. 
Leaning over, he whispered as loudly as he 
dared : 

‘‘Egmont!” 

The prisoner glanced around him in astonish- 
ment, for he had recognized the voice; but he 
saw nothing except the blank walls. 


260 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

‘Took up, Egmont!’’ Bob said; “in the tree 
over your head.” 

The prisoner obeyed, but for a time could see 
nothing. Bob shook the branch gently to at- 
tract his attention. 

“Bob!” burst from Egmont’s lips. 

“Yes, I ^m here; but don’t speak so loud.” 

“What are you doing up there?” asked his 
cousin. 

“Hiding from the Boches. Are you hurt?” 

“No, but I ’m desperately tired. Traveled all 
night.” 

“So did I, but I don’t dare fall asleep up here.” 

Egmont continued to stare as if he could hardly 
believe his senses. This American cousin of his 
was forever doing the strangest things and ap- 
pearing in the most unexpected places. 

“Have they searched you yet?” Bob whispered 
again. 

“Yes,” was the reply, “they took everything I 
had away from me.” 

“Then they won’t be apt to search you again,” 
said his cousin. “That will help.” 

Egmont could not see the point. What differ- 


BROKEN BONDS 


261 


ence did it make whether the Germans searched 
his clothes the second time? He had nothing 
more to lose. 

“Now listen, cousin,’’ Bob continued, “I ’m 
going to drop my penknife to you. Do you 
think you can get it and put it in your pocket? 
How much can you move your hands?” 

Egmont showed him, and the result was 
promising. His hands were tied by the wrists, 
but the palms and fingers had free play. 

“Watch it!” Bob called again. “I’m going 
to drop it near you.” 

Taking good aim, he landed the pocket-knife 
within a foot of his cousin. “Pick it up and put 
it in your pocket,” he warned. 

Egmont began wriggling his bound hands 
toward the knife until the tips of his fingers 
touched it. Then he grasped it and held it a 
moment. “Can you open it?” Bob asked, 
watching him cautiously from above. 

When he saw his cousin unclasp the blade, and 
hold it up for him to view, he asked once more; 
“Can you cut the ropes with it, first the one 
around your legs, and then the one binding your 


sea THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


wrists? No, not now,’’ he added when Egmont 
started to show him. ‘‘Wait until to-night when 
one of the soldiers is asleep, and the other is out- 
side on guard. I ’ll tell you when the coast is 
safe. All I wanted to find out now is if you can 
free yourself.” 

“Yes, I ’m sure I can do it,” Egmont replied. 
“It ’s easy enough to cut the rope around my 
legs.” 

“Try the one on your wrists,” Bob interrupted. 
“Put the handle of the knife in your mouth, and 
saw at it.” 

It was a simple operation. Egmont rehearsed 
it long enough to satisfy Bob that he could cut his 
way to freedom in a few moments. 

The sentries were beginning to move toward 
the house again, and Bob said softly: 

“Put it in your pocket, and pretend to sleep. 
The soldiers are coming. Listen carefully, Eg- 
mont. To-night, when the guard is off duty, he 
will go to sleep. You must then cut your way 
free. I ’ll watch the one outside. When he ’s 
at the end of his beat, I ’ll let you know; I ’ll 
drop a small stick down to you. When you feel 


BROKEN BONDS 


263 


it or hear it, come outside as quickly as you can. 
I ’ll climb down and meet you. We can get a 
long distance away before they find you ’re gone, 
if we have any luck.” 

“All right. Bob. I understand.” 

“Then go to sleep again. The men are 
coming. Pleasant dreams to you. I wish I 
could get a snooze. I don’t see how I ’m going 
to cling to this branch all day and not fall 
asleep.” 

His cousin cast him a glance of sympathy, for 
he knew how he felt from his own weariness, 
and then, as the noise of the approaching soldiers 
reached his ears, he rolled over, and in a short 
time was actually asleep. 

Bob watched him enviously, and then turned 
his eyes to the two men. They did not enter 
the house for some time, but remained outside, 
smoking and talking under the shade of the trees.. 
They even prepared their midday meal here, heat- 
ing it over a fire made of dry leaves and sticks. 
The savory odor of it floated upward and made 
Bob nearly frantic. Even the coffee, made 
mostly of acorns, had such an overpowering 


264 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

deliciousness that he unconsciously sniffed the 
odor with greedy satisfaction. 

The men on duty near the woods patrolled a 
considerable section. While one disappeared 
and remained gone for nearly half an hour, the 
other either spent his time resting at the stone 
house or wandered off in the woods or fields. 
Once both were gone for so long that Bob was 
half tempted to rouse Egmont and tell hiin to 
come out; but on second thought he concluded 
it was better to wait until after dark. In broad 
daylight they might be seen crossing the fields 
and chased or shot at. 

It was the longest day Bob had ever ex- 
perienced. He had to fight against man’s two 
worst enemies — hunger and the lack of sleep. 
Either one alone was bad enough, but the two 
combined made his vigil almost unbearable. 
The quiet of the scene and the warmth of the air 
made the temptation to sleep all the greater. 

Slowly the sun sank toward the western 
horizon, and when the lengthening shadows of the 
trees stretched across the fields he felt better. 
‘Tn a short time I ’ll get down and leave,” he kept 


BROKEN BONDS 


265 


repeating to himself. “I must keep my eyes 
open.” 

The sun finally set. The two soldiers had 
finished their supper, and once more they sat in 
front of the house, smoking and chatting. The 
moon rose and spread a white light around, and 
still the soldiers sat there. Bob grew impatient. 
Would they never separate? 

He was growing more and more anxious, when 
one of the men rose and yawned. The other, 
after a few more puffs at his cigarette, got to 
his feet also. They stood a moment talking, 
and then one entered the building and the other 
started off on his patrol. B/)b\s heart beat with 
hope and anticipation. ^ 

He saw the one inside strike a match and hold 
it to Egmont’s face. Then he inspected his 
bonds, and grunted with satisfaction. In a few 
minutes he was sprawled out upon the rude couch, 
and almost immediately he fell asleep. The 
sentry on guard was at the far end of his beat. 

As soon as Bob felt sure he broke off and 
dropped a twig through the open roof. To make 
sure that it should attract Egmont’s attention, he 


266 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

dropped a second. Then he began swiftly and 
noiselessly descending the tree. If Egmont had 
heard the signal, he would be ready almost as 
soon as Bob reached the bottom. 

When the boy reached the ground, his limbs 
were so cramped and trembling that he had to 
exercise them a few moments before he could go 
on. His legs were fairly numb from inaction. 

Finally, he crept up to the door and listened. 
It was closed, and no sounds came from within. 
Even the snoring of the soldier had ceased — or 
could n’t he hear it through the thick door? He 
waited impatiently for five minutes, and, as Eg- 
mont still failed to appear, he became anxious. 
Had anything happened to him? Had he found 
it impossible to free himself, after all? 

His impatience increased as the time drew 
near for the sentry on guard to return. It was 
now or never. If Egmont was having any 
trouble, he must push in and help him. They 
couldn’t delay now.. They had gone too far to 
retreat. The same opportunity might not offer 
itself again. 

He raised a hand to push back the door, when 



Egmoiit closed tlie door cis softly as lie had opened it 



r 


\ 




I 


X- 



I 


t 






t 


4 




I 


I 

V 





I 




t 


•i 











A'u 


\ 


• ^ 






.-- ft ^ A 


# 


4 


BROKEN BONDS 


267 


it began to move very softly. Bob stepped back. 
The crack widened, and when the door had 
opened half-way his cousin stepped cautiously 
out. Bob touched his arm and beckoned him to 
follow. 

Egmont closed the door as softly as he had 
opened it, and then, catching Bob’s hand, he 
stepped quietly away from his prison. Gaining 
the open fields, they sped across them without 
speaking a word. Their noiseless flight through 
the moonlight night was swift and sure. 

Not until they had put at least a mile between 
them and the stone house did either utter a word. 
Then Bob slackened his pace and turned to his 
cousin. 

‘Tuck was with us that time, Egmont,” he said 
jubilantly. ‘T hope it will hold.” 

“It was more your brains and planning than 
luck,” was the eager retort. “But what were you 
doing up that tree?” 

“Looking for cherries,” smiled Bob. 

“Why, cherries don’t grow on oak trees!” re- 
plied Egmont, seriously. ‘'Did n’t you know it 
was an oak?” 


268 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

*^Sure!’’ laughed Bob, amused by the other’s 
lack of humor. ‘‘But cherries or acorns are all 
the same when one is starving, and if I don’t find 
something to eat soon, I ’ll simply drop down and 
die!” 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 

D espite Bob’s intense weariness, they 
traveled steadily all that night, anxious 
to put as many miles as possible between them 
and their German captors before morning. An 
hour before dawn they concealed themselves in a 
wooded ravine. Bob almost instantly fell asleep, 
while Egmont started off on a foraging expedi- 
tion for some food. 

He returned shortly before sunrise with enough 
to satisfy both of them. At the risk of discovery, 
he had boldly applied at a farm-house for relief, 
and the good-natured farmer patriot helped him 
liberally from his own meager supply of bread, 
meat, fruit, and vegetables. 

Both boys slept soundly all day, and when 
night came again. Bob was not only completely 
refreshed, but in the best of spirits and eager to 

269 


270 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

resume their journey. They passed south of 
Alost, which had been scathed and terrorized by 
the German army as it swept westward to the 
Belgian frontier in the early days of the war, and 
then directed their steps toward Deynze. In the 
low Flanders country, they had easier traveling. 
Fortunately it was not the rainy season, and the 
country roads and pathways were not wallowing 
in mud and water. 

The farther away they got from Brussels, the 
less they had to fear. They were fugitives, 
liable to be arrested on sight, but the Germans 
here were not so alert in watching for the boys 
who had escaped from the wrecked train. Per- 
haps this relaxation was due to the belief of the 
Germans that the fugitives would either make for 
the Holland border or attempt to return to Brus- 
sels and keep in hiding. 

Traveling with great caution, they averaged 
ten or more miles a night across country, sleep- 
ing in the daytime, and foraging for food as op- 
portunity offered. Despite the warnings the 
German authorities had given the peasants 
against harboring spies and assisting refugees. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 271 


the boys never had their appeal for food or lodg- 
ings denied them. All Belgium, from the lowest 
to the highest, was linked in a secret bond of 
fraternity to help each other, and few there were 
who from selfish fear refused to succor any of 
their compatriots. 

Their progress finally brought them to their 
real danger-point. The nearer they approached 
the battle-front of the contending armies, the 
more difficult and dangerous their journey be- 
came, German detachments appearing everywhere. 
The roads were crowded with trucks, ambulances, 
and marching infantry, and the air was humming 
with airplanes. The wastage of war appeared in 
deserted villages, fields and meadows trampled 
by many feet, whole towns ruined and abandoned. 
On the other hand, refugees from the war zone 
were constantly met — old men and women, with 
children tagging behind, streaming in endless 
procession back from the firing-line. Their 
presence helped to camouflage the flight of the 
young Vigilantes, for mingling with these 
throngs of homeless fugitives. Bob and Egmont 
found a certain protection. The Germans here 


272 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

were too busy with their own affair of holding the 
line to waste too much time and energy in stop- 
ping and examining every barefooted boy. 

They traveled south of Ghent, crossing the 
Scheldt and then the Lys several miles below that 
historic city. Even the pleasure of meeting 
Henri Rogiers and his young Vigilantes of 
Flanders had been given up in order to keep 
to a more direct route. 

A few miles below Thourout, they were hiding 
in the ruins of an old dugout which had long since 
been abandoned by the Germans. They had 
reached the edge of the fighting-zone. Directly 
ahead, the distant boom of the big guns came to 
them on the morning breeze. They had traveled 
far; but the few miles of territory that still re- 
mained to be traversed bristled with dangerous 
pitfalls. How could they cross the German lines 
and get safely across No-Man’s-Land? 

Bob had been thinking and dreaming of this 
every night and day since they had left Brussels ; 
but as no solution had come to his mind, he had 
kept pushing the unpleasant question forward, 
hoping that something would develop to show 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 373 


them a way out. But they were squarely up 
against the problem now. They either had to go 
blindly forward, and trust to their wits and a 
measure of good luck, or accomplish their pur- 
pose by some ruse or trick. 

'‘We might find a couple of dead German 
soldiers and disguise ourselves in their uni- 
forms,’’ Bob suggested after a long discussion 
of the problem. 

"We could never do it,” replied Egmont, shak- 
ing his head. " We ’re too young to pass for 
soldiers.” 

"If we ’re old enough to work in German 
mines and factories we ought to pass for soldiers 
in uniform,” Bob answered. 

"If we were caught we ’d be shot as spies.” 

"Sure! But that is’n’t much worse than 
spending a few years in Germany as prisoners.” 

Both were silent for a while. The problem 
seemed too big for them. If they went forward 
in the darkness of night, they would be 
challenged often, and it would not be an easy 
thing to pass the sentries. They were near the 
firing-line, and sentries were more alert than they 


274 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


had been around Brussels. They both realized 
this, and the thought sobered them. 

“We can’t fail now that we Ve come so far,” 
Bob remarked again after a long pause. “We 
must get through.” 

“Yes, it would be worse than ever to be caught 
now. But how are we going to escape it?” 

Bob made no answer; he was vainly trying to 
think of some scheme. It was still early morn- 
ing, and they had the whole day ahead of them 
for rest, but with the coming of the night they 
should be prepared to do something. A few 
more miles and they would reach the back lines 
of the German army running from Ypres south- 
ward. They were directly opposite the English 
and Belgian armies which held the line from 
there to the coast. 

“If only we had an airship!” Bob said, smil- 
ing grimly, “we could fly across in no time.” 

“There’s one for you now!” exclaimed Eg- 
mont, pointing skyward through the ruined roof 
of the abandoned dugout. “Why don’t you hail 
it?” 

“An Albatross, of course, with the Kaiser’s 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 275 


iron cross on it!’’ Bob muttered in disgust. 

The big bombing-plane was sweeping swiftly 
across the flat, open country, and the boys 
watched it with interest. In their hiding-place 
the sharp eyes of the aviator aloft could not see 
them, and they craned their heads upward with 
impunity until the big bird vanished in the dis- 
tance. 

“Nothing but Taubes and Albatrosses!” 
growled Bob. “Where are the English and 
French planes?” 

“If they knew we were here waiting for them,” 
said Egmont, smiling, “they might come. Any- 
way I don’t think we need expect them. They ’re 
too busy fighting to bother about two fugitive 
boys.” 

“If they knew the information we were trying 
to smuggle across to them, I guess they ’d come 
and pick us up.” Then, recalling one of the 
chief objects of their journey, he added a little 
anxiously: “We can’t waste time here. We 
must make the effort to-night. If we don’t our 
secret information may be too late to do any 
good.” 


^76 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

“Yes/^ replied Egmont gravely, ^‘we Ve got to 
take the risk of being captured or killed. 
There no going back now.” 

^‘No, it’s forward! Well, let’s have a good 
sleep. We ’ll need all our wits to-night.” 

“Hope nobody will disturb us here while we re 
asleep.” 

“Not much danger of that. The place is 
deserted. There is n’t anybody within miles of 
us. This was a part of the trenches at one time, 
I suppose.” 

“It may have been made by the English or 
Belgians first,” added Egmont, slowly, “and then 
rebuilt by the Germans when they drove toward 
the coast.” 

“Anyway, English, Belgian, or German, it 
makes a good hiding-place. Nothing but rats to 
disturb us. Well, I ’m going to turn in.” 

Egmont stretched his weary limbs and yawned, 
while Bob began softening his hard bed by haul- 
ing away jagged pieces of concrete. Suddenly 
the loud whirring of another airship overhead 
broke the stillness. 

“Another Albatross!” growled Egmont, as if 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 277 

the presence of the machine overhead annoyed 
him. 

^^No, it ’s a Taube/’ corrected Bob, glancing 
upward. ^Ht is, isn’t it?” he added in doubt, 
appealing to his cousin for confirmation of his 
words. 

‘‘Why — yes — ^no,” was the stammering reply. 

They watched the big airplane in silence, their 
eyes striving to make out the insignia painted 
on the under part of the fuselage. 

It was an enormous machine, with a great 
spread of wing, and flying very low. Indeed, it 
appeared to be descending; and while the boys 
looked, it rapidly grew in size. 

“It’s going to land!” exclaimed Bob, sud- 
denly, clutching his cousin by the arm. 

The big plane was circling around like a great 
hawk watching for its prey. The pilot was ap- 
parently searching for a level space where he 
could land with safety. Directly in front of the 
abandoned dugout stretched a low, flat field. 

“It looks as if he ’s going to land here,” Bob 
whispered excitedly. 

“Do you think he ’ll come in here if he lands?” 


278 THE BOY VIGH^ANTES OF BELGIUM 

Egmont asked. so we ’d better burrow under 
the stones in this corner.’’ 

'‘Yes, we ’ll do that if he comes here,” replied 
Bob absently. "But I want to see him land. 
It ’s the biggest plane I ’ve seen. And it ’s not a 
Taube or an Albatross.” 

"It does n’t matter what it is,” observed Eg- 
mont, "so long as it ’s a German machine.” 

"I ’m not so sure it is,” replied Bob. 

"What! You don’t mean—” 

"No, I don’t mean anything,” was the hasty 
interruption, "except that I did n’t see any iron 
cross painted on it. Did you?” 

"No-o— but— ” 

"It may be the newest bombing machine of 
the Boches, camouflaged to deceive the enemy. 
They ’re playing all such tricks.” 

Egmont made no reply. He was watching the 
big plane gliding gently to the earth. "It ’s 
stopping!” he exclaimed; "and there are two 
men in it!” 

"It looks big enough to carry a dozen,” said 
Bob, as he took in the mammoth spread of the 
wings. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 279 


The moment the plane came to a standstill on 
the ground, the pilot and his companion leaped 
out and began examining the wings and the 
struts supporting them. Bob watched them with 
narrowing eyes. They were perhaps a thousand 
feet away from the boys, but, even at that dis- 
tance, something in the bearing of the men, and 
the cut of their uniform, excited him. He 
looked again, opening and closing his eyes to 
make sure he was not being deceived. Then 
in a whisper that vibrated with emotion, he 
said: 

‘^Egmont, they ’re not Germans ! ” 

‘^Who are they, then?” gasped Egmont, in 
amazement. 

‘T don’t know. But I ’m going to find out.” 

Bob made a motion as if to climb out of the 
dugout, but his cousin held him back with a 
hand. 

‘Tf they ’re Germans disguised. Bob, we ’ll be 
jumping from the frying-pan into the fire, as you 
call it.” 

“Yes, but sometimes the frying-pan ’s so hot 
that the fire can’t be any worse,” was the grim 


280 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

retort. “I’m going to risk finding out who they 
are.” 

“You can’t creep upon them without being 
seen, Bob,” his cousin warned him. “There ’s 
nothing to hide behind.” 

“Then I ’ll walk straight toward them — they ’ll 
be less likely to shoot at me.” 

“And find yourself surrendering to the 
Boches?” 

Bob paused a moment and took another long 
look at the plane and its two young navigators. 
There was something in the jaunty appearance 
of the pilot’s helmet that impressed him. It was 
not the clumsy head-gear commonly used by the 
German fliers. 

“I believe they’re English!” he breathed 
aloud. “Yes, I’m sure of it! Come, Egmont, 
it ’s our chance. We must speak to them before 
they leave. They will take our message to King 
Albert.” 

Egmont found himself dragged out of the dug- 
out by his impetuous cousin, and, before he 
realized it, he was running across the open space 
in the direction of the airship. Their unexpected 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 281 


appearance created a sensation. The two air- 
men gave a start when they saw them and sprang 
for their seats in the fuselage. 

Bob, afraid they would fly away before he 
could reach them, waved his arms frantically over 
his head, and shouted: 

“We he friends! Don’t go! Wait! I ’man 
American! Oh, please don’t go!” 

This latter was delivered in a long-drawn-out 
wail, for the big propellers of the bombing- 
machine had started and were clattering vocifer- 
ously. The machine began to move. Then the 
engine stopped and the whirring propellers slowly 
came to a stop again. The young aviators turned 
upon the boys and covered them with their re- 
volvers, and Bob immediately stopped and threw 
up his hands. 

“We’re friends!” he repeated. “I’m an 
American, and my cousin is a Belgian. You ’re 
English, I know. We ’ve got important informa- 
tion for the Allies. If we can’t get across, won’t 
you take it for us?” 

The aviators, experienced in the tricks and 
ruses of the enemy, kept silent for a moment, with 


^8^ THE BOY VIGD^ANTES OF BELGIUM 


eyes bent more upon the ruined dugout than upon 
the two ragged boys, as if they expected any 
moment to see German soldiers emerge from it. 
But nothing happened, and finally one of them 
said in good English: 

‘‘Advance, but keep your hands above your 
heads ! 


CHAPTER XX 


PASSING THE ENEMY’s LINES 

B ob and Egmont walked slowly forward, 
holding their hands above their heads, but 
there was neither fear nor doubt in their minds. 
They were jubilant and greatly excited, for they 
knew the aviators were English and not Germans 
in disguise. The men could hardly conceal their 
accent so well if they were of Teutonic origin, no 
matter how successfully they could camouflage 
their dress and big bombing-plane. 

At a sharp command, they halted within ten 
feet of the aviators, one of whom kept his eyes 
constantly on the ruined dugout, while the other 
began interrogating them. 

^‘Who are you, and what do you want?” he 
queried. 

‘T ’m Robert Lane, an American,” replied Bob, 

speaking eagerly, ^^and this is my cousin, Egmont 
283 


284 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


d’Anethan. We ’re the grandsons of Count 
d’Anethan of Brussels. You may have heard of 
him.^’ 

Can’t say that I have. Don’t know the Bel- 
gian nobility. Never had the pleasure of meet- 
ing any of them. But what are you doing here, 
and why ’d you try to hold us up?” 

‘We are trying to escape through the German 
lines to carry an important message to King Al- 
bert,” was the prompt reply. 

“What sort of message is it?” queried the pilot 
of the big airship. 

“I ’ll tell you, though it ’s a long story,” re- 
plied Bob; and he began a rapid history of the 
Boy Vigilantes, the men listening closely, as if 
to detect any flaw in the recital. When he came 
to Lieutenant Transquet’s message they pricked 
up their ears. 

“Eh! What’s that? Repeat it!” one of 
them interrupted. 

Bob obediently complied. The military in- 
formation seemed to affect the aviators more than 
it had Bob or Egmont. They showed unusual 
interest, and became quite excited. Finally, the 


PASSING THE ENEMY’S LINES 285 


one who had first spoken frowned, and asked 
sharply : 

“Who helped you make that up?’’ 

Bob flushed angrily. 

“It is n’t made up,” he retorted, “I ’ve re- 
peated it to you exactly as Lieutenant Transquet 
told us.” 

The man turned to his companion and 
mumbled a few words in an undertone. Then 
he came back at Bob. “Who ’s in that dugout 
with you?” he demanded suddenly. 

“Nobody. We were hiding there alone.” 

Again the Englishman consulted. There was 
still doubt in their minds. “You expect us to 
believe that cock and bull story?” asked the pilot, 
severely. 

“I don’t know whether you believe it or not,” 
replied Bob, quickly, “but it ’s true.” 

The boy’s evidently honest resentment seemed 
to be taken in good part, for the man smiled. 

“Of course! Of course!” he murmured. 
“But we don’t know Lieutenant Transquet. He 
may be a fraud, or one of the clever spies of 
Germany. We never heard of him. That 


286 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


may not be his real name. Such a man may not 
exist. 

^‘You can easily prove that,” Bob answered, 
somewhat mollified. “Carry the message to King 
Albert. He ’ll know who Lieutenant Transquet 
is.” 

The aviators looked at each other and nodded 
their heads. “It ’s worth trying,” said one. 

“All right,” responded the other. He turned 
to Bob and looked as severe and threatening as 
he could. “Of course, you know what happens 
to a spy when caught,” he began. “We generally 
set him up before a firing squad.” 

Bob nodded and gulped once or twice. 

“Now if this message you ’re giving us is made 
up you ’ll be shot,” continued the speaker, 
“There won’t be much trial either. Don’t think 
you can deceive headquarters. They ’ve got eyes 
that can see through a stone wall. They ’ll give 
you one chance, and then — if you ’re lying — 
you ’ll never have a chance to tell another. You 
understand that?” 

“Yes,” nodded Bob, a little puzzled by the 
man’s words and threats. “But — ” 


PASSING THE ENEMY’S LINES 28T 


The speaker interrupted him with a wave of the 
hand. “We ’re not going to carry your message,” 
he announced, “but we ’re going to give you a 
chance to prove your words.” 

“How?” exclaimed Bob, weakly. 

“Ever had a chance to fly?” queried the pilot. 
“If not, you ’re going to have it now. You ’re 
going along with us.” 

“You mean we ’re going to cross the lines in 
that?” stammered Bob, pointing at the plane. 

“Yes,” nodded the aviator, “we ’re going to 
take you to Belgian Headquarters, where you can 
repeat your story. Then, if they think you’ re 
not telling the truth, they’ 11 shoot you, but if you 
are — well, they won’t shoot you.” 

“Climb in,” continued the aviator. “Lucky 
we did n’t bring our photographer and bomber 
along, or there would n’t be any room for you. 
Better hurry and get aboard before some of the 
Boches spot us. They must have seen us drop 
down, and they ’ll be investigating soon. Fritz 
is a very inquisitive person.” 

“You ’ll take us?” stammered Bob. 

“That ’s what I said! You want to back out 


288 THE BOY VIGH^ANTES OF BELGIUM 

now? Afraid to repeat that story to head- 
quarters?’’ 

^‘No, sir, we want to go,” replied Bob, stoutly; 
^‘and we ’d like to tell our story to King Albert.” 

‘^All right then. We ’ll give you the chance. 
Climb up and get in the back seats.” 

Neither of the boys had ever been in an airship 
before, and as they climbed aboard they betrayed 
their ignorance in every act and look. The pilot 
and observer took their seats in front, and in- 
dicated the two back seats for the boys. 

^^Now strap yourselves in and hold your 
breath,” one of them said, smiling. ^‘We may 
have to play some tricks in the air to escape the 
guns of the Boches/' 

A few minutes later the engines were started, 
and the roar and the clatter were deafening. The 
mammoth, birdlike machine ran smoothly across 
the open space for a few hundred feet, and then, 
leaving the earth, began to rise swiftly into the 
air. Bob and Egmont clutched each other’s 
hands. 

Two hundred — three hundred feet the machine 
mounted, and then, taking a wide sweep, it 


PASSING THE ENEMY’S LINES S89 


pointed its nose upwards and began climbing 
rapidly. It seemed to the boys as if they would 
be tipped out and spilled behind. The machine 
was spiraling and mounting in a wide sweep, 
making no pretence whatever to go toward the 
enemy’s lines. Indeed, it seemed at times as if 
they were flying back into Belgium instead of 
toward the coast. 

But this was merely a precaution to avoid the 
enemy’s guns at a low altitude. A thousand feet, 
two, three, five, they mounted. The relief-map 
of Belgium seemed spread below them. Rivers 
became mere ribbons of silver; towns and cities 
were blurred, irregular spots. 

Still they climbed upward, until the panorama 
below faded more and more into a strange puzzle, 
in which nothing could be distinguished 

The exhilaration of the flight at first kept the 
boys quiet; but when they saw how swiftly and 
safely they swept along, their tongues, became 
loosened. 

“It ’s great, isn’t it?” exclaimed Bob. 

“I wonder how high up we are,” said Egmont. 
“We must be miles and miles.” 


290 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

‘Where are the German lines? They must be 
off there.’’ 

They talked on and on, exclamations of 
wonder and delight escaping their lips, but it 
never dawned upon either for some time that his 
conversation was a monologue, and that neither 
could hear the other above the clattering roar of 
the engines and propellers. When he realized 
this. Bob smiled a little sheepishly at his cousin 
and lapsed into silence. 

Then a puff of smoke suddenly broke loose 
below, and a few moments later there was an ex- 
plosion in the air near them that made the huge 
machine rock and sway. Another and another 
followed, until the air seemed filled with mighty 
concussions. The German anti-craft guns were 
saluting them as they attempted to cross the lines. 

The only response the pilot made was to climb 
a little higher. Fragments of shells fell around 
them, and one pierced the upper right-hand plane. 

For a moment they were in the very vortex of 
the storm of bursting shells. The enemy gunners 
had got the range. The pilot coolly directed his 
machine upward, climbing at such a sharp angle 


PASSING THE ENEMY’S LINES 291 


that only the tail of it was presented as a target to 
those below. 

In a few more minutes they would be beyond 
the reach of the shells. It was a fragment from 
the last one to explode near them that caught Bob 
on the left arm. He felt a sharp blow and a 
peculiar, stinging pain. He glanced around to 
see if his cousin had touched him to attract his 
attention; but Egmont was staring straight ahead. 

A little surprised, he glanced down at his arm 
and saw that he had been wounded. 

Until then Bob did not know it. It seemed a 
mystery to him, and he jerked his arm around to 
see where the blood came from. He had always 
supposed that a fragment from a shell caused ex- 
quisite pain, and here he had been wounded with- 
out actually being sure of it until he saw the 
blood. 

bullet must have grazed it,’’ he reasoned, 
^^and made a little flesh-wound. I won’t say any- 
thing until we land.” 

He wiped the blood on his hand across the 
sleeve of his torn jacket and turned his attention 
to the beauty of the scene below. They were 


292 THE BOY VIGH^ANTES OF BELGIUM 


boring through the air at a speed of a hundred 
miles an hour. The force of the wind was 
tremendous, and one had to hold his mouth shut 
to keep the breath in. , 

Faster and faster they swept along. They 
were no longer climbing, and the exploding shells 
had been left far in the rear. The pain in 
his arm increased, but Bob murmured to him- 
self, “We ’ll soon land. I don’t want to bother 
them.” 

So he pressed his lips together and remained 
quiet. A strange, dizzy sensation crept over him. 
He fought Jt back manfully and gritted his teeth 
the harder. He had a dreamy sensation that they 
were falling. Certainly the earth was coming 
nearer; he could make out houses and trees now, 
and some soldiers below, marching. 

There was a light shock, a series of jolts, and 
then a peculiar swaying and swinging of the 
machine. They came to a stop, and Bob was 
aroused by the voice of the pilot. 

“Well, we ’re here! Jump out now, boys! ” 

Egmont quickly disengaged himself and 
climbed to the ground, but Bob felt the sudden 


PASSING THE ENEMY’S LINES 293 

loss of all power of action. He sat there without 
moving. 

say, can’t you get out?” called the pilot, a 
little impatiently. 

Bob nodded, but made no other movement. 
Suddenly the aviator caught sight of his pale face 
and his blood-stained sleeve. 

^‘What ’s the matter?” he asked. say, now, 
you were n’t hit by one of those shells, were you? 
Why didn’t you say so before? Well, you’re 
a plucky lad! Here!” he shouted to one of the 
soldiers coming up ; ^^get a stretcher. I ’ve got 
a wounded boy aboard.” 

Bob did not entirely lose consciousness, for 
he knew in a vague way all that happened. 
But it was all so much like a dream! He was 
lifted from the seat and carried to a stretcher. 
Then two soldiers picked him up and took him 
into a big tent. A kindly face bent over him, 
and while the owner of it smiled at him, the hands 
skilfully removed his sleeve. A few moments 
later, the stranger nodded and said: 

^ ^Nothing serious — ^just a slight shell-wound. 
But he ’s lost a lot of blood.” 


294 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


After that Bob slept. Whether it was from 
weakness and exhaustion, or as the result of a 
white pill the surgeon made him swallow, he 
could not say. When he opened his eyes again, 
Egmont was standing by his cot. 

‘^How do you feel, Bob?’^ he asked anxiously. 

‘Why, I’m all right. Have I been asleep?” 

“I should say so — for hours! I didn’t think 
you ’d ever wake up. Does your arm hurt you?” 

“My arm? Oh, I was wounded! Yes, I’d 
forgotten that. It does n’t hurt now.” 

Nevertheless, when he attempted to move it, he 
winced and made a wry face. But he forced a 
smile, and asked: “Where are we, Egmont? 
We got across, didn’t we?” 

“Yes,” replied his cousin. “We ’re with the 
Belgian army behind the allied lines. I ’ve de- 
livered our message to King Albert. He saw me 
at once. I could n’t wait for you. Bob. I 
thought it was too important to keep. You don’t 
mind, do you?” 

“No, of course not. That ’s what we came 
for — to deliver the message at once. I ’m glad 
you could do it.” 


PASSING THE ENEMY’S LINES 295 

He sighed and turned wearily upon his couch. 

“Of course, I told him all about you,’^ Egmont 
added, “and how you had organized the Boy 
Vigilantes. He was so interested that he ’s com- 
ing to see you. He ’ll be here soon.” 

“Who? King Albert?” 

“Yes,” nodded Egmont, smiling; “don’t you 
want to see him?” 

“Why, not here — not like this! I — I — why 
did n’t you tell him to wait until I was well, and 
— and — ” 

“You can’t tell a king to wait. Bob,” was the 
smiling reply. “He comes when he wants to. 
Listen! I believe he’s here now. Yes, he’s 
coming. You must get ready to receive him.” 

Egmont’s excited voice betrayed his own agita- 
tion, and while he began hastily arranging the 
blanket and sheet of the cot, to make the patient 
more presentable to His Majesty, Bob drew him- 
self up in bed, squared his shoulders, and said: 

“All right ! I ’m ready to receive the King. 
Show him in!” 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE ORDER OF LEOPOLD 
HE King was a tall, fine, soldierly-looking 



man, dressed in simple military uniform, 


which showed the effect of hard service and wear, 
and holding in one hand the cap that he had re- 
moved upon entering. Bob had never seen His 
Majesty; but his many pictures exhibited in Brus- 
sels before the war had made his features familiar 
to him. But the original was different now from 
any of his photographs. The face was finer and 
nobler, the features showed lines of anxiety and 
suffering, and the eyes were gentle and sad, with 
an expression of infinite pathos and sympathy 
shining in them. 

Accompanying the king were several of his 
aides and staff-officers. When he stepped into 
the tent, and saw the young patient watching him 
with wondering eyes, a smile of incredible gentle- 
ness illumined his whole face. His right hand 
went to his head in a military salute. 


296 


THE ORDER OF LEOPOLD 297 

‘‘Vigilante, I salute you in the name of Bel- 
gium he said gravely. 

Bob responded with an awkward attempt to 
imitate the salute. “Thanks, Your Majesty ! ’’ he 
said faintly. 

The officers of the staff also saluted, and stood 
at attention, while the King advanced to Bob’s 
side and laid a hand gently on his head. 

“My boy,” he said earnestly, “I have heard 
all about your Vigilantes, first, from Jean de 
Chokier and his sister, who reached here safely 
a few days ago.” 

“Oh!” exclaimed Bob, forgetting in his relief 
that he was interrupting a real king. “Jean and 
Charlotte escaped then 1 I ’m so glad. I must 
get word back to Madame de Chokier. I prom- 
ised her I ’d let her know as soon as I could.” 

The king smiled instead of resenting this in- 
terruption. “You won’t have to worry about 
that,” he replied. “Word has already gone back 
to them by the Vigilantes.” 

“Egmont sent it,” Bob added. “It was like 
him to think of it while I was lying here.” 

“Yes, your cousin helped. He told us the pass- 


298 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


word, and one of our scouts carried it through 
the lines. The first boy he met proved to be a 
Vigilante.” 

'‘There are lots of them in Belgium,” Bob an- 
swered eagerly. “I think in time we /II have 
every boy enrolled. They ’re all patriotic. Your 
Majesty, and ready to do anything for their 
country.” 

“Yes, I know it,” replied the king, a little mois- 
ture in his eyes. “No king was ever blessed by 
such a noble people, and now their children are 
following in their footsteps. Belgium is greater 
and finer to-day in her sorrow than in her days 
of peace.” 

Bob nodded, not at all abashed by the presence 
of the king whose heart had been so cruelly wrung 
by the desolation that had swept over his country. 
To him, the king was a noble leader, but one 
whose simple ways were like those of any other 
man. 

“For your patriotic services in organizing the 
Boy Vigilantes, my young hero,” began the king 
after a pause, “I decorate you with the Order of 
Leopold, although when your cousin^ the grand- 


THE ORDER OF LEOPOLD 


299 


son of Count d’Anethan, delivered Lieutenant 
TransquePs message, a message of great import- 
ance, I felt how utterly inadequate was any deco- 
ration I could bestow. My brave people and 
soldiers have made any honors I can give them 
seem hollow and empty. They have risen to the 
supreme test of sacrifice.’’ 

Bob watched the king’s face and eyes, both so 
full of expression, that he scarcely noticed the 
ribboned cross that he held in his hand. Then 
a smile broke out on the king’s face. He leaned 
forward, and said : 

“I wanted the honor of pinning this to your coat 
before you left the hospital. It is the badge of 
merit for the hero.” 

Bob caught a glimpse of the piece of the ribbon 
in the Belgian colors, and the cross of white 
and gold, wreathed in green, dangling from it. 
The king was decorating him with the Order of 
Leopold, one of the highest honors conferred upon 
the brave and worthy. Many others in the army 
and out of it had received the decoration during 
the war, but never before had it been bestowed 
upon an American youth. 


300 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


For the first time Bob felt a little awed in the 
presence of the brave king, whom a whole nation 
loved and worshiped in his exile more than when 
he had ruled in prosperity in his own capital. A 
little overcome by the simple, but impressive, 
ceremony, he submitted in silence. His coat was 
ragged and worn, and stained with the mud of the 
fields ; his shirt showing underneath was not much 
better; but the splendid decoration could not have 
had a better setting to show off its beauty. It 
was the badge of courage which clothes could not 
dim. 

The king rose and shook Bob^s hand. Then 
he turned slowly and looked at Egmont. The 
same winning smile parted his lips and showed 
his white teeth. 

“My only regret is that Count d’Anethan is n’t 
here to-day to see his grandsons decorated,” he 
added. “The American blood in one hasn’t 
eclipsed the Belgian blood in the other. Egmont 
d’Anethan, step forward!” 

Egmont mechanically obeyed, exhibiting an 
agitation that Bob secretly enjoyed. When the 



The King pinned a similar decoration on Egmont’s coat 






THE ORDER OF LEOPOLD 301 

king pinned a similar decoration on his cousin’s 
coat, he with difficulty restrained a shout of hap- 
piness. Egmont took the hand that His Majesty 
extended, trembling from head to foot as he did 
so. Before he could recover his presence of 
mind, the king said a few words of farewell to 
both of them, and departed. 

Left alone in the tent, the two boys were quiet 
for a moment. Then Bob sat up and grinned. 

“Say, cousin, that was great, wasn’t it?” he 
exclaimed. “Decorated by the king! Back in 
America the people would open their eyes and 
say I was lucky. I guess I am, too — lucky to get 
out of the clutches of the Boches. We might 
have been in Germany by this time, working in 
one of their mines.” 

Egmont nodded his head, shuddering a little at 
the thought of what they had escaped. Even the 
decoration on his coat could not entirely make him 
forget the fear that had been his. 

“I wish Grandfather were here. Bob,” he mur- 
mured. “How proud he would be 1 ” 

“Yes, so do I — and — and — ^Mother. I wonder 


302 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 

where she is. I have n’t heard from her for so 
long that — that I ’m worried about her. Do you 
think anything ’s happened to her?” 

‘Why, no! ” replied Egmont. “Her last letter 
was from America, wasn’t it? And the Boches 
haven’t got there yet!” 

“I should say not!” snorted Bob. “And they 
never will get there except as prisoners of war. 
They ’ll have their hands full defending their 
own country when the American soldiers get over 
here in force.” 

“They are here in force. Bob — over a million, 
of them,” said Egmont, proudly. “I ’ve seen 
some of them — and their flag ! ” 

“What! They’re here with the Belgians! 
The Stars and Stripes waving here in Belgium! 
Then I must get well ! I can’t lie here ! I must 
get up and salute the dear old flag. Hurrah for 
Old Glory!” 

Egmont smiled at Bob’s enthusiasm, which even 
his wound could not quench. “They ’re not 
exactly here,” his cousin explained, “that is, not 
the army. I saw some of their officers with King 
Albert. The soldiers are brigaded with the 


THE ORDER OF LEOPOLD 


303 


English and Belgians a few miles away. When 
you get well you can go over and see them.’’ 

’ll be all right in a day or two. It will seem 
like getting back home when I see the old flag 
flying in the breeze.” 

But his wish was not to be gratified quite so 
expeditiously as he expected. His wound, while 
not dangerous, was painful, and by night he was 
in a high fever. For twenty-four hours he was 
unconscious of all that was going on around him, 
in his delirium talking ramblingly of many 
things, while Egmont watched by his side, anx- 
ious and restless. The Belgian surgeon shook 
his head as he listened, and said: ^^He ’s 
English. I do not understand all his talk. He 
should have an English surgeon.” 

‘‘No, he ’s an American,” Egmont explained. 
Then a happy thought came to him. Bob was 
anxious to see the American uniform and his 
dearly beloved flag. Could it not be arranged 
so that, when he opened his eyes again, he would 
gaze upon them? 

“Is there no American doctor here?” Egmont 
asked. 


304 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


^‘American doctor? Let me see. Oh, yes, 
there is one, a great doctor from America. He ’s 
at the head of the American hospital at Fumes. 
I shall speak to him.” 

When the American doctor came, in response to 
the Belgian surgeon’s request, Egmont explained 
the circumstances of his cousin’s nationality and 
the adventures he had been through. He pointed 
to the decoration King Albert had pinned on his 
breast, and added wistfully: 

^Tt would be such a pleasant surprise to him 
when he comes to himself to see the American flag 
and uniform before his eyes. I think it would 
do him more good than medicine.” 

^‘Yes, that and a good nurse would soon pull 
him through — an American nurse at that, one 
who can talk to him about home. By the way, 
what did you say his name was?” 

^‘Robert Lane.” 

^‘Lane! Lane! That’s curious,” murmured 
the American doctor. ^^The nurse I was thinking 
of sending to him from the hospital is named Lane 
— a Mrs. Lane.” 

'Trom America?” asked Egmont, in surprise. 


THE ORDER OF LEOPOLD 305 

^^Yes, all of the nurses in the American hospital 
are from the United States.” 

^‘You don’t think it can be — ^be Bob’s mother, 
do you?” stammered Egmont. 

‘‘Why — er — I don’t know. I hardly believe 
it can be. Lane is a common name in America. 
Still — well, I ’ll send for her.” 

For six hours Egmont waited in feverish im- 
patience for the nurse that was to bring a little 
touch of America to the hospital tent where Bob 
still lay in delirious fever. When the motor-car 
stopped in front of the tent, Egmont peered 
through the flap, and then, in an ecstasy of joy, 
ran out into the arms of the nurse. 

“Oh, it ’s you. Aunt Mary!” he shouted. “I 
knew it was! It couldn’t be anybody else! 
The moment the doctor said his nurse had your 
name, I knew it was you. What a surprise it 
will be for Bob.” 

“How is my dear boy, Egmont?” asked Mrs. 
Lane, in a trembling voice. “I could n’t get here 
quick enough when the doctor said his name was 
Robert. Oh, I ’m longing to take him in my 
arms. It ’s been so long since I Ve seen him!” 


306 THE BOY VIGILANTES OF BELGIUM 


Egmont pulled her into the tent. She tiptoed 
very softly toward the couch and gently kissed the 
forehead of the restless patient. The kiss seemed 
to quiet him, for he lay still for a few moments. 
Then as her cool hands brushed his forehead it 
seemed to quiet the throbbing of his temples, for 
he gave a long sigh, his incoherent mutterings 
gradually ceased, and he fell into a natural sleep. 
A tear of gratitude fell from her eyes and rolled 
slowly down her cheek. 

Two hours later Bob opened his eyes wearily, 
the fever gone. 

^‘Egmont,” he murmured. 

Then his eyes looked into a face, bending close 
to his, that sent a thrill through his whole body. 
He opened them wider, and stretched forth a 
hand. 

‘^Mother, is that you, or am I dreaming?” 
he murmured. 

‘‘No, you ’re not dreaming, dear,” was the gen- 
tle reply. “I Ve come all the way from America, 
and I ’m here to nurse you.” 

“How did you know I needed you! How did 


THE ORDER OF LEOPOLD 


807 


you get here so soon! Have I been sick long? 
It seemed only yesterday — ’’ 

“Never mind, dear. Don’t ask questions until 
you ’re stronger. I ’m here, and that ’s enough.” 

“Yes, that ’s enough,” was the contented re- 
ply. The eyes closed, a sigh of relief escaped the 
lips, and both hands clutched one of his mother’s 
as if they would never let it go again. 

Through the toil and tumult of the war. Bob 
had come safely, to find the one he loved the most 
waiting for him at the end of his journey. His 
dreams were pleasant dreams, full of visions of the 
future in which there were no wars, no rumors 
of war, but universal peace and content. America 
had certainly responded to the call of Belgium, 
the mothers as well as the sons, and during his 
waking moments Bob felt sure that the days of 
nisery and suffering for the enslaved people would 
soon be over — for America fought only in a right- 
eous cause, and once she had drawn the sword 
it would never be sheathed again until the wrongs 
of the brave little nation had been righted. 


THE END 




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